


Hitting the Reset Button

by KitLlwynog



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fen'harel's sorrow, Gen, M/M, Modern Character in Thedas, Post-Canon, Soul Bond, Spirits, The Fade, Time Travel Fix-It, Tresspasser Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-05-16 21:42:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 36
Words: 129,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5842018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitLlwynog/pseuds/KitLlwynog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A normal woman is conflicted about her feelings regarding a video game. Fen'harel, having failed catastrophically, sorrows in the Fade when Mythal approaches him with a solution.</p><p>A retelling of the events of Dragon Age: Inquisition with an original character stolen from the modern world. The canon will diverge more and more as the story progresses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Same Old Heartbreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mortal woman has intense feelings regarding her favorite video game, much to her annoyance. In the Fade, Fen'harel sorrows after his attempt to bring down the Veil nearly destroys the world. Mythal comes to offer him a solution.

She rubbed her eyes as the television faded to black. Too long in front of the screen, she told herself, but it felt more like un-shed tears. Once again, she'd let Solas break her heart, walking away through the eluvian. It shouldn't hurt like that. It was just a video game. But it felt worse than any real life betrayal she had ever experienced. She shook her head to clear it of ridiculous thoughts.

Later, she collapsed into the bed she shared with her husband, still chiding herself. Here was a man whom she loved and loved her. They had a life together, and two beautiful daughters. Sighing, she curled up against his back and he made a quiet noise of contentment in his sleep. Dumb game, messing with her mind. Stupid Fen'harel and his stubborn pride. Luckily, she was tired, and she only tossed an turned a little before drifting off to sleep. 

**************

A disconsolate howl echoed through the Fade. He had failed again. This time worse than ever. Thedas...the whole world... was ravaged beyond repair. All for nothing. He considered giving up, just lying down and waiting for death to take him. But as the thought crossed his mind, there was something... A spark...that called to him. It was so far away, but he began to move toward it at a weary lope. It felt like warmth and life...it felt like hope.

When he finally reached the spark, he was exhausted, wounded by many demons that had stood in his way, but he could see the soft bubble of a dream ahead. He watched from just outside, as if he was gazing in a window. The dream was strange, as was the dreamer. A woman, but like none he had ever seen. And the dream was full of oddities he couldn't make sense of, yet the subject was familiar. It was him, them together. A dream of love and loss. How could this woman dream of him when they had never met?

A familiar voice spoke from behind him. "An odd place to come to mourn your failure, Dread Wolf."

He turned, but he knew who he would see there. Mythal. He bowed his great white head, but did not speak. The form of a wolf was a shield for him, for it did not allow him to voice his shame.

"This may be the first time in my presence that you have had nothing to say." Mythal said, seating herself next to him. "Strange mortal, isn't she? This world has progressed so differently than our own. Technology we can hardly imagine, but not a shred of magic."

Fen'harel focused on her, eyes wide and questioning. Another world? What did she mean? How could that be?

Mythal laughed. "There are many worlds besides our own, lying next each other like pages in a book, touching, but not intermingling. Normally even you would not be able to see the dreams of someone in that world. But something connects you."

He tilted his head quizzically. Mythal gazed at him with a thoughtful expression. "Humans have a word for it, when two spirits call out to each other, desiring to be one. Soul mates." The wolf huffed, part sadness and longing, part disbelief.

"It doesn't matter whether you believe it or not, my friend, but this was not why I came to you. I came to give you another chance to right your wrongs."

Fen'harel hung his head, letting out a noise very like a whimper. What chance could there be? There was nothing left.

"You saw the magic that Alexius developed. Using your power. We could wind back time, to right before the Breach was opened."

Fen'harel raised his head abruptly, fixing Mythal with an intense stare. He nodded, once.

"I will need your power to do it." He barked an affirmative. "All of it," Mythal clarified. The wolf looked at his friend seriously, their eyes meeting for the first time. If Fen'harel gave all his power to Mythal, he would die. He had no fail safe, as she did. But if it would turn time back, it would be worth it. He would be alive in the past, to try again. He tried not to contemplate the apparent paradox. Mythal waited patiently for his decision, but she knew what it would be. There was nothing left for him in this world.

Finally, with a long exhalation of breath, he laid his great head in her lap. She stroked him gently between the ears and he licked her hand, a gesture of acquiescence. "You'll have to make better choices this time, my friend. But I have some ideas."

He gave her a questioning look and she chuckled. "This secret is mine alone. Now, my pride, give your power to me and I will guide you into sleep."

There was a great sighing, and then green light flowed out of the wolf and into Mythal. She caressed the wolf's head gently, singing a lullaby like a mother comforting a child. When the green light subsided, the wolf was no more, dissolving into ether. A tear glistened on Mythal's cheek. "Dareth shiral, fen'falon."


	2. Rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mythal makes a gift for Fen'harel before rewinding time, and the Conclave is destroyed again.

Mythal sat for a long moment, considering, as the dream of the mortal played out before her. Finally, having clearly decided something, she stood and strode into the dream bubble. The look on the face of the mortal, interrupted at her imaginary lovemaking, was quite comical.

"Dreaming of the Dread Wolf? You are a strange one, girl. Although, in the days of Elvhenan, he was considered quite the prize," she said to the startled woman, her yellow eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Flemeth?" the woman said, the rest of the dream dissolving around her.

"You know of me? That makes things simpler, though I wonder...." The mortal opened her mouth, probably to start explaining, but Mythal cut her off. "We do not have time to sate my curiosity. I have an important task for you."

It said something about dream logic that the mortal did not seem terribly surprised. "What do you want me to do?"

Mythal smiled, an expression that seemed kindly, sad, and feral at the same time. "I need you to save Fen'harel from himself. You do love him, don't you?"

"Yee-es," said the woman slowly, blinking in confusion. "But I don't understand...."

"The things you do not understand would fill the largest library in Arlathan, foolish girl," Mythal said with a bark of laughter harsh as a raven's cry. "You do not need to understand, just accept. Thedas is in danger, and if you wish to help, to save the man you love, to save us all, you will have to leave this life behind."

"I...what about my husband, my children... I can't just..."

"They will not miss you." The mortal looked hurt, and Mythal chuckled. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. It just happens that I do not need your body, only your spirit. I will replace what I have taken. There is someone I know that deserves something more peaceful. With a bit of memory modification, no one will notice the difference."

The mortal opened her mouth, shut it again. Mythal could see her thoughts plainly on her face. Longing, and guilt, excitement and disbelief chased each other like playful shadows.

"So, will you accept the gift I offer you? Though I am immortal, I do not have all the time in the world." The more of Thedas that came crashing down, the more tenuous the thread of the possible future became.

The mortal woman took a deep breath and nodded. "I'll do it."

Mythal smiled. "Good. Let's get started." With a gesture, a glowing magic circle appeared under the mortal. The goddess pulled something from a bag on her hip, a glowing ball of light. She regarded it fondly. "Go in peace, Lavellan. Maybe fate will be kinder to you in this world." She blew upon the ball of light, the spirit or soul, and it floated away. Then Mythal turned her gaze to the curious mortal. 

"Now, what to do with you?" She flicked her fingers and a swirl of magic surrounded the young woman, changing her, making her taller, thinner. Her face grew somewhat sharper and her ears went to delicate points. "Like one of the Elvhen of old. But you need a name..." Mythal said thoughtfully.

"I have a name already," the mortal replied testily and Mythal laughed again.

"My dear girl, no one would believe a Dalish girl would have a name like that. Evun'ale is your name. Now, are you ready start your new life? Out of the frying pan and into the fire?"

"I guess... but will you be there to help me? I have no idea what I'm doing." Mythal was surprised despite herself. So brave, this child, though she knew more of the danger than most.

"Let me tell you a secret." Mythal said conspiratorially, "No one does. I will not remember that we have ever met, if all goes well. I will tell you this, Fen'harel has much wisdom, but his pride and guilt get in the way. You will have to push him to accept his mistakes rather than erase them."

"How do I do that?" the newly Elvhen woman asked, a bit desperately. "I doubt he'll listen to me."

"How should I know? I'm not in love with him." Mythal said with another laugh. "Don't let him shut you out. Pique his curiosity...and wait. Now, our time is nearly up...but one more thing. Vallaslin. Every Dalish child must have their mark. Which of us should I give your allegiance to? Sylaise, perhaps...definitely not Andruil..they never got along..."

"I don't think..." Evun'ale started to protest.

"Of course you don't. But I have just the thing... he'll be quite interested in you now," Mythal said with evident delight as she drew some lines in the air. She stood back, obviously pleased with her work.

"You'll do. It is time to go." Evun'ale drew a deep breath and nodded. Mythal smiled, this time all motherly. "Good luck da'len. You'll need it where you're going." Clenching her hand into a fist, Mythal pulled on the form of her creation. She dissolved into motes of light that were drawn together, quickly collapsing into a sphere of glowing energy. "She'll give you a run for your money, fen'falon," Mythal said with a husky chuckle. Once again, she sent the soul on its way with a gentle breath. "Dareth shiral."

When the soul was gone, Mythal sighed. "Time for me to go too." The green light shone from her hands, weaving into strands and sigils of wondrous complexity. "Let us rebuild what we have broken..." Then the world imploded.

****

Evun'ale awoke in a stone hallway. Her eyes darted wildly in fear and confusion. It had not been a dream. it was real, all real! Mythal and Fen'harel and saving the world... Panic welled with in her and she nearly screamed.

But then, a booming, abyssal voiced echoed through the doorway ahead. "Bring forth the sacrifice."

Something tugged at her memory, which was unexpectedly fuzzy. That was bad, she somehow knew. She pushed open the door, a hard knot of fear in her throat. 

A creature, a horrifying thing of red crystal and rotting skin stood there, with a terrified old woman.

"What's going on here?" she heard her voice saying, much more bravely than she felt.

"You must stop them," the old woman cried.

"Kill the elf," said the demon..thing. Evun'ale realized belatedly that she was the elf he was referring to, and she restrained herself from putting her hands up to her ears. Warriors in blue armor rushed toward her. Well, crap. But the old woman reached out, batting a glowing orb out of the monster's hand. Sensing an opportunity, Evun'ale darted forward, grabbing the metal ball. Green magic arced over and through her, her blood burned with it. She screamed in pain and fear and then there was nothing.

**************

Solas awoke with a start. It had been a strange dream, mostly because it had not been under his control. He had been with Mythal, and something terrible had happened. There was a strange woman...he strained to remember, but it was like trying to hold water in cupped hands; the harder he grasped at it, the more of it slipped away. He shook his head, there was no time for this. 

Corypheus was somewhere around here, rumors had been swirling for weeks about it. Solas stood, looking down into the valley below. The town of Haven stirred to life in the morning light, a small peaceful village, usually inhabited mainly by pilgrims. But now it was full of people waiting to hear the results of Justinia's Conclave. Though Solas had been waiting nearly a year to regain his foci, he hoped his suspicions were incorrect. This was not what he had wanted, so many innocent lives at stake, but now that the wheels were in motion, he was too weak to stop it. He had to hope he was wrong, and if he was not... He supposed it didn't matter. None of it would matter once he recovered the orb. A sigh escaped his lips, filled with regret, remorse, and grief. But this world was a mistake he had to undo.

He picked up his pack and his staff, intending to walk down into the village. Then an explosion rocked the world, knocking him onto his back. "It begins."


	3. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas presents himself to Cassandra, hoping to ameliorate some of the damage. He examines the survivor from the Conclave and finds her to be much more than he bargained for.

Solas rubbed his temples with his knuckles, but he knew that would do little to soothe his headache, which was more existential than physical. The orb was gone, he had known that soon after the blast. It had disappeared from the area quickly. So, he had gone down into Haven and offered his services to whomever looked most competent, partly out of guilt and partly out of a desire for the most current information.

He had presented himself to a dark-haired woman wearing Seeker armor and a scowl. She was naturally suspicious, but when he surrendered his staff voluntarily and provided pointed observations about the glowing hole in the sky, she seemed relieved. It was chaos, demons falling out of the Breach and smaller rifts appearing everywhere. He did what he could, but upon the tears in the Veil, he had no effect. The first night, when they showed him to a small cabin in Haven, he wept at his failure and ineptitude.

But this morning, he'd been woken by frantic pounding on his door. There was a survivor, with a glowing mark on her hand. Hope kindled anew. Perhaps the Anchor could be recovered!

They had left him alone in the dim cabin, another gesture of trust, perhaps, or fear. He walked over to the cot where a slim form lay, the glow of the Anchor making eerie shadows on the ceiling. Gently, he rolled the unconscious woman onto her back and gasped, hand to his mouth.

At first, glance, a Dalish female, perhaps thirty, though she looked younger. Pale, with long hair the color of starlight. But his magical senses knew better. She did not belong here somehow, in a way that he could neither make sense of, nor put into words. She swirled with magic. His magic, certainly, but not just from the mark on her hand. It was everywhere, mixed with a flavor that seemed familiar. 

And the vallaslin. No Dalish had ever seen such marks, nor would they have put them upon one of their own. Pale green like a new opened leaf, they did not stand out so much on her milk-white skin. He dared to trace them with a finger. The visage of a six-eyed wolf, one side snarling, one smiling gently, stared back at him. Fen'harel did not have vallaslin, would not even entertain the idea. Yet the intent of these marks were clear. She belonged to him.

The Anchor flared to life and the woman cried out in pain. Solas grabbed her left hand, and started to draw out the excess power. "Shhh, da'len," he heard his voice say. "Everything is all right. Haminas." He closed his eyes, drawing the threads of magic into himself. He could calm the flares, take away the excess power, temporarily, but the Anchor could not be moved. "Fenedhis," he muttered under his breath.

He looked down at the woman, the victim of his mistakes. And now it seemed, the only hope of cleaning up the mess. Who was she? Where had she come from? Where did she get her vallaslin? To Solas, it felt like a message for him alone, the words of which he could not read. He disliked being manipulated, that was his job after all, yet he could not bring himself to be angry or suspicious with this unfortunate sleeper. He felt...protective?

There was a knock at the door, Cassandra entering before he could even open his mouth, which seemed to be her typical behavior. "So?" the Seeker asked impatiently.

"She certainly was at the Temple. The mark on her hand proves that. If she awakens, she may well prove to be our salvation," he answered, more calmly than he felt.

Cassandra put her hands on her hips. "Explain. I have no time for riddles."

Solas restrained himself from smiling. "If I am correct, the mark will allow her to control the rifts, and close them. Perhaps even close the Breach itself."

"Thank the Maker!" Cassandra exclaimed. "But doesn't that make you suspicious? Suppose she was the one who caused the explosion?"

"I highly doubt it," Solas replied easily. "The Dalish do not usually care enough about the outside world to meddle in its affairs. Besides, except for the mark, I sense no exceptional magical talents." That was not precisely true. This woman had...potential. But it was untrained, and wild, which only served to make him more curious.

Cassandra frowned at the woman, her lips thin. "I will not leave so much to chance. If she is stable, I will move her to the cells underneath the Chantry."

"If you must. She is stable enough to move." Solas knew there was hardly a point arguing. Defending the woman too strenuously would only serve to make the Seeker suspicious.

"You will tend to her, until she wakes?" It wasn't really a question, though he supposed it was nice for Cassandra to pretend.

"If she wakes," he corrected. "I will do my best."

****

For the next three days, he cared for the prisoner by day, and scoured the Fade for answers by night. Nothing he did seemed to make a difference, except to soothe her pain. Her dreams were disjointed things that he could hardly make sense of, though he found it odd that he was a common subject. 

By the end of the third day, he was beginning to feel a bit desperate. He stood once more on the edge of her dreams, waiting for something that indicated consciousness. A shadowy woman, whose voice he couldn't quite place, was speaking in this dream. "Don't let him push you away," it said and then...

"Solas?" said a soft voice. He nearly jumped out of his skin. She could see him. 

He stepped forward, trying to regain his composure. "You know me?"

"I..." the woman frowned, fiddling with her long braid in an unconscious gesture of nervousness. "You seem so familiar but I don't know how. Everything is...confusing."

He sat down next to her. Her mind had conjured a clearing in a scrubby sort of forest and she sat on a fallen log, her bare feet on the grass. "Tell me the last thing you remember, da'len," he said gently.

"There was...a metal sphere. Green light, and it hurt so badly," she said, wincing at the memory.

He put a comforting hand on her shoulder and she tensed. "Relax da'len. What happened before that?"

She looked sideways at him, her gaze oddly intense, and then looked away. "I heard this deep voice...and I opened a door. A monster, covered in red crystals... he was doing something to this poor old woman. She called to me."

Solas nodded. That sounded like Corypheus, if the descriptions he had heard were correct. "But before that? Where did you come from?"

She took a deep breath. "Everything's all jumbled. I remember a woman talking to me. A bright light? Everything before that is hazy. Just snatches of things. A little house. Children. I see myself painting... petting a cat. It's like a progression of scenes that don't mean anything."

"You are not Dalish?" he asked, surprised by everything she had said. 

"Dalish? That word seems familiar... I don't know. Like I've read it somewhere, but not related to me."

"Then how did you come by the marks on your face?" That was a question to which he needed the answer, yet he could see by her expression that he would not get one.

She put her hands to her cheeks. "What marks? I don't remember having any."

Solas sighed heavily. "You are a puzzle, da'len. I believe you will wake soon. For now, if anyone asks, you are Dalish. From Clan Fen'lin in the Korcari Wilds. That should sate their curiosity. Now, I must go." He stood, his mind turbulent.

"Solas?" she said, rather timidly. He felt his heart clench painfully, which caught him woefully off guard.

"Yes, da'len?" he said, turning back to her, noticing for the first time how blue her eyes were. 

"Will you be there when I wake up? I feel...better when you're around. Everything seems less confusing."

"I..." Void take him, but he wanted to comfort her. And that frightened him. "Not right away. But I will see you soon." She smiled up at him and once again he felt a strong urge to embrace her, so he backed up a few steps. But there was one thing... "Do you have a name, da'len?"

"Oh!" She sounded surprised, possibly because she actually knew the answer. "Evun'ale. At least, I think that's my name."

"Evun'ale." It was like music on his tongue. Solas felt his lips curve into a smile. "It suits you. Rest well, Evun'ale. If I am not much mistaken, you are about to find yourself in a position of great importance."

He left before she could say anything else. Something about her made him feel very vulnerable. When he awoke, he sent a messenger to Cassandra that the prisoner would wake soon. Then he went to the forward camp. He needed some distance from the woman that unsettled him so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haminas: Rest


	4. Awakened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evun'ale meets Cassandra and does magic for the first time. Solas helps her to close a rift, and they journey to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. After closing the rift there, she and Solas meet again in the Fade.

They didn't trust her, that was plain. Something terrible had happened, there had been an explosion, many people had died. Evun'ale had no idea what they were talking about. Well, that wasn't precisely true. Everything they said was so familiar, like deja vu, but she had no answers for them. The dark haired woman, Cassandra, finally took her outside and showed her the Breach.

It was pants-shittingly terrifying. She squinted against the light, taking a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart and queasy stomach. Cassandra was saying something. Asking her to help. She remembered flashes from her dreams, the woman had said that Thedas was in danger. And Solas...the only thing she was truly sure of.

"I'll do whatever I can," she said. Cassandra almost smiled, which changed her face completely. Evun'ale felt she might come to like the Seeker, if she'd do her a favor and not kill her. The dark-haired warrior led her through a camp of glaring people.

"They have already decided your guilt," Cassandra said. _How nice._ Evun'ale thought. "There will be a trial, that's all I can promise." Cassandra sliced through the rope that bound her hands and they were off.

The first demon attack was... eye-opening to say the least. When a terrifying nightmare creature erupted from the ice in front of her, Evun'ale grabbed the first weapon she saw. A staff. Once it was in her hands, she felt a buzzing in her fingers, something was there, like a call that was waiting for an answer.

Her body knew what to do. She twirled the staff around her and something happened, light came out of the crystal on the end and struck the demon. Magic. She was doing magic. It was a rhythm, a song she could feel in her blood, and she danced, swinging the staff, twirling it, slamming it into the ground. The demon dissolved into dust.

Cassandra approached her as one might approach a live snake. "Drop the staff."

Evun'ale just barely kept her grip on the wood. "I'm sorry. I was just trying to help. The demon attacked me."

The warrior sighed and sheathed her sword. "You are right. I cannot promise to defend you from everything, nor expect you to remain defenseless. I should remember that you came willingly."

They ran through the frozen valley, fighting the demons, Evun'ale's blood singing with her newfound power. "I can hear the fighting up ahead, we have to help them," Cassandra shouted. They charged up the stairs, killing one demon, three, and there was a glowing...something... in the air.. like the breach but smaller.

"Quickly, before more come through!" shouted a voice, an achingly familiar voice. A hand grabbed hers, thrusting it into the air. Pain lanced through her arm, but she hardly cared, she had turned to see who was holding her hand, but she knew already. They looked at each other, and for a moment time seemed to stop.

Then the rift closed with a shriek and he released her. "What did you do?" she heard herself say.

There was humor in his eyes. She had to remember to breathe. "I did nothing, the credit is yours."

"At least this thing is good for something," she muttered to herself, shaking her left hand, which was tingling unpleasantly.

"The same power that created the hole in the sky also placed the mark upon your hand. I had theorized that it could be used to close the small rifts the Breach has left in its wake, and it seems I was correct." His eyes bored into her, despite the lightness of his tone. They were talking, and she too busy staring at him to hear. She forced herself to look away, to the sarcastic dwarf with the crossbow, He introduced himself as Varric, and his crossbow as Bianca.

"You named your crossbow Bianca?" That was weird enough to catch her attention. Varric and Cassandra argued like an old married couple, not paying her much mind.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions," he said, his eyes telling her to play along. "I am pleased to see that you still live."

"He means, I kept that mark from killing you while you slept," Varric said.

Evun'ale looked at him, trying to see what was going on behind his silvery blue eyes. They said nothing, except perhaps "Wait."

"Solas is an apostate, like you." Cassandra was saying. The Seeker made it sound like a bad thing, almost a curse word..

"All mages are apostates, Cassandra, now that the Circles are no more," Solas said, his voice cool. Evun'ale could tell that this had the potential to turn into an argument. But it did not. Time was the of the essence, they needed to get to the Temple right away. To try to close the Breach. It sounded dangerous, but she was strangely unafraid. This felt...right. 

"Let's take the mountain pass," she said, and it was done. They fought more demons and insubstantial wraiths, running through tunnels covered in fantastical sculptures of ice. Once, they crossed a bridge over a chasm so deep that it made Evun'ale dizzy when she peered over the edge. A light touch on her back made her jump. Solas looked at her, concern and amusement warring in his eyes. "Take care you do not look too closely, da'len. The bottom is a long way down." 

At the top of the mountain pass, they found another rift and some missing scouts. This one, Evun'ale closed by herself. It still hurt, but only for a moment. When it was done, Solas nodded approvingly. After an argument with an unpleasant cleric on a bridge, they climb over the last mountain pass and reached the Temple.

It was the stuff of nightmares. Crystal shards glowing a malevolent red, broken stone and ashes. The bodies of screaming corpses still on fire. And the first rift. A demon of Pride wielding lightning. Somehow, they defeated it. Evun'ale reached out to the Rift, felt the power flowing through her. As the now familiar sting traveled down her arm, she could feel Solas there, supporting her with his magic. The rift closed with a sound like a thunderclap. She collapsed.

*****

Solas found her in the Fade the night after closing the rift at the Temple. He took the form of a giant white wolf. Partly he wanted to know how deep her knowledge of him ran, and partly, it seemed safer. She made him feel things, things he didn't want to acknowledge, but the wolf could be a shield for his turbulent emotions.

She was having a nightmare. The Temple of Sacred Ashes was around them, the booming voice of Corypheus, the Pride demon. Now he wished he was a man, so he could comfort her better, and then he chided himself for being foolish. He approached her carefully, crawling almost on his belly so that he looked non-threatening, but she didn't notice him, locked into her nightmare as she was, until he prodded her elbow with his wet nose.

She threw her arms around him blindly, burying her face in his fur and crying. He curled his great body around her, surprised by her reaction...or lack thereof, but there was no denying that she needed this comfort. 

"Oh, Solas, it was terrible." He felt like he had been struck by lightning. She knew! How could she know? "The bodies, and the voice. I remember that voice!" Sobs wracked her body. His form shifted almost without his will, and she cried into his shoulder while he held her. Finally, she stopped shaking and her breathing settled. She sat up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry. I'm being such a baby."

"No, it is no shame to be upset by suffering, or afraid of monsters like the one who opened the Breach. You showed true bravery back at the Temple, especially for one unused to violence." His arms felt empty without her. He folded his hands in his lap to keep them out of trouble. "How did you know it was me?"

"Oh." Her face was thoughtful. "I'm not sure. I just knew. It felt like you, somehow. Is that strange?"

"Your senses are well tuned," he said. At least he still had some secrets. "You wielded magic for the first time today, did you not?"

"Was it that obvious?" she said ruefully, wrinkling her nose in a manner that he couldn't help but find adorable.

He felt himself smile. "You acquitted yourself well. But though your magic is strange to me, it is definitely... untamed. It is dangerous to use it without control."

"Oh," she said again, her face falling. "I don't want to hurt anyone. Well, I mean, unless they're hurting me first, I suppose."

Solas couldn't help but laugh. "Of course. More importantly, you do not want to attract the attention of demons. Or, even worse, Templars," he said with a crooked smile. 

Evun'ale grinned back. It was like being struck full in the face by a beam of sunlight. He had to look away, recover himself. "What I am trying to say is that I could teach you to wield your power safely, if you wish."

"Would you?" she said joyfully, throwing her arms around him and then, as if realizing what she was doing, she backed up, her head bowed and cheeks red. "I mean... I would like that. I don't want to be a burden."

Why was it that he wanted to hug her back, to reassure her? To do more than just embrace. His ears reddened as his mind traveled down long unused paths. "It would be my pleasure," he said, and he more than meant it.


	5. Chosen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evun'ale joins a reborn Inquisition, and then goes to Solas for training in magic. A question about dreamwalking takes an unexpected turn.

Solas had retreated quickly from the Fade that evening, promising to begin teaching her once she awoke. Unfortunately, it turned out that she would not wake for three more days. He drank a lot of tea to keep himself from seeking her out, he did not trust himself around her. The walls he had built to keep others out seemed to crumble at her touch. Already his duty to the People had faded in urgency when faced with the mystery of Evun'ale. He started to research.

****

Evun'ale opened her eyes, blinked against the flicker of firelight. She was in a bed, comfortable but unfamiliar. She sat up, hand to her aching head.

Someone dropped something, squeaking with fear. A young elf, practically shaking, mumbling something about Cassandra and the hole in the sky, Herald of Andraste...

"Geez, I'm not going to hit you," she said to the groveling elf woman, but she darted out the door anyway. 

Evun'ale walked out into a small village, a fine powder of snow lining every rooftop. _Haven_ her mind said, and there was a feeling of sadness with it that she couldn't place. She walked, letting her feet carry her where they would, and everyone she passed was looking at her in awe, pointing, murmuring. It was unsettling. 

There was a large stone building at the top of the hill. _Must be the Chantry that poor girl was muttering about._ She pushed open the door, and following the sound of raised voices, arrived right in the middle of an argument between Cassandra, Chancellor Roderick, and two other people that looked familiar enough that she felt ashamed to not remember their names.

"Chain her. I want her ready to transport to the capital for trial," said the Chancellor. Evun'ale could not help but detest the man.

"Disregard that, and leave us," Cassandra said to the two soldiers who had apparently been lurking behind the door.

"You walk a dangerous line, Seeker," Roderick said. Everyone in the room regarded him with a similar expression of disgust.

"I did everything I could to close the Breach. It almost killed me," Evun'ale said hotly, her face showing him exactly what she thought of his attitude.

"And yet you live. A convenient result, insofar as you're concerned." She was going to wring his fat neck! She felt herself taking a step towards him, no doubt to do something regrettable.

But Cassandra cut in, and then the woman in the hood, who had a strong accent of some kind, nearly outright accused the Chancellor of being in league with whoever had blown up the temple. _Ha!_ Evun'ale thought. _Let's see how you like it, ass._

And then they ruined it by claiming she was some sort of divine gift or something. "I'm not...some holy hero, a Chosen One, I'm just an elf," she protested. _Then who was that woman? She chose you._ said her traitorous brain. She ignored it with a scowl.

Cassandra slammed a book on the table. Everyone stared at it. "You know what this is, Chancellor. A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act. From this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn."

Evun'ale was torn between pleasure at seeing Roderick chased from the room and unease at feeling like she'd become a pawn in some sort of holy war. But they claimed they just wanted to restore order. _And Solas is here._ They shook hands. She was now part of the Inquisition.

Then she went looking for Solas. After chatting with the opinionated quartermaster, and Varric, discovering the blacksmith, the tavern and a grumpy alchemist that had been acting as a healer, she found him in house similar to her own at the top of the hill. 

"You are finally awake," he said, his face guarded. "The chosen of Andraste, the blessed hero sent to save us all."

"Am I riding in on a shining steed?" Evun'ale replied playfully, though her new 'holy calling' made her feel very uncomfortable.

"I would have said a griffon, but sadly they are extinct," he said, and he actually did look a bit sad about it. "Joke as you will, posturing is necessary. Every war has its heroes. I am just curious what kind you will be."

"Hopefully the alive kind. Varric has already told me that most heroes die tragically," she said, trying to lighten the mood. It worked. Solas smiled.

"Yes, Varric sees everything in terms of a story, but I have a feeling not even he can guess what you will accomplish. You are a puzzle, da'len."

"I feel like you've said that before," Evun'ale said with a smile. "I don't mind inspiring your curiosity."

Solas's gaze was intense. "I will stay, at least until the Breach is closed."

"Was that in doubt?" she said, sounding more hurt than she had intended. 

"I am an apostate, surrounded by Chantry forces. Surely, you can understand my caution."

"No, actually. I have no idea what's going on here. But I wouldn't let them hurt you, Solas."

He frowned. "I... Thank you, Evun'ale. I had not expected to find a friend here. I certainly did not expect anyone like you."

"I aim to surprise," she said. "But I came to find you because you promised me magic lessons. I have a feeling that I'm going to be needing them."

"So I did," Solas replied, and his face seemed a bit less strained. "If you are ready, let us begin."

*****

By the end of the week, she could conjure a decent barrier and use a few simple spells. Her talents seem to lie with water and nature. 

"An unusual combination that I have not seen before. Of course, at this point I would be surprised if you ever conformed to my expectations," Solas said, smiling to show that he meant it kindly.

She had not dared to ask about their dream meeting yet. Her magic training had included rudimentary explanations of the Veil and the Fade, which was enough to let her know that their interaction was not normal. But she found that she missed his presence, so on the day before they were to leave for the Hinterlands, she screwed up her courage.

"So, can anyone learn how to turn into a giant wolf and invade people's dreams?" His expression seemed to be stuck somewhere between shocked, flattered, and annoyed. He motioned for her to come into his house and he shut the door behind him.

"Well, if this is all I had to do to be invited in, I would have asked this question a while ago," Evun'ale said glibly as her eyes adjusted to the dim light.

Solas snorted despite himself, shaking his head. "If you knew the full consequences of your implications, I do not think you would say such things. If I believed in any gods, I would say that they sent you here to vex me."

"Vex you? Do I really vex you, Solas?" she asked, only half teasingly. She had no intention of upsetting him, but he inspired feelings in her that were... unexpectedly intense. He wore his self-control as a mask, and she desperately wanted to see behind it.

He sighed. "I am sorry, lethallan. I did not mean it truly. It is only that you...confuse me. But in answer to your earlier question, no. To have such control in the Fade, it is a rare gift." His eyes met hers for the first time since they had entered his house, searching her face as if all the answers he sought were held within.

"If you were anyone else, I would say that there was no hope for you to learn this skill. But you seem to break all the rules. So, if you wish to become a Somniari, a Dreamwalker, as I am, I will try to help you," he said finally.

"I guess I'll be seeing you in the Fade," Evun'ale said, smiling.

"So you shall," he agreed, clearly relieved that the conversation had been resolved so easily, but unsure what to do next.

She walked toward the door, and then, right before she opened it, she turned suddenly, so that she was looking right into his eyes, their bodies just inches apart. Feeling unexpectedly daring, she reached up, brushing his cheek with the tips of her fingers. He did not move to stop her, but had gone unnaturally still.

"You are wrong, by the way," she said softly. He raised his eyebrows in a question, but did not speak, so she continued. "I know exactly what I'm implying, and whatever consequences you think there might be, I would do so regardless." She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, before leaving the house with a purposeful stride. Solas did not move for a long time, his hand straying to his cheek, his mind awash with unfamiliar feelings.


	6. Road Less Traveled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquiaition travels to the Hinterlands. Evun'ale finds peace in helping the refugees and shares a quiet moment with Solas that becomes a revelation for the reticent elf.

The next morning they departed for the Hinterlands, which were, Evun'ale learned, a large expanse of countryside around the city of Redcliffe, and a major area of conflict in the ongoing Mage/Templar hostilities. They arrived at the first camp in mid-afternoon after more than a full day of travel, and were greeted by Scout Harding, a no-nonsense dwarf who was clearly good at her job. She had a dry sense of humor that Evun'ale liked. After speaking with the scout, she walked to the edge of the ridge they were camped on and could hear the fighting below.

Their first order of business was to speak to Mother Giselle in the Crossroads. Evun'ale had reservations about working with the Chantry. Though she recalled very little detail about her former life, she had an instinctual dislike for organized religion which Solas declared to be extremely interesting. But Cassandra, Leliana, and Cullen had all convinced her that, whether they were part of the Chantry or not, having the clerics actively opposing them was the opposite of helpful.

So, to the Crossroads they went, which they found to be under attack by both rebel mage and rogue Templar forces. Time to see how well they would work together in battle. She cast a barrier around all four of them. Solas had told her that everyone's magic was different. His barriers were thin, but solid, with a crisp cold feel, but hers were thick and flowing. They seemed to absorb magic and missiles well enough, but did little for physical attacks. She frowned in annoyance and cast her main offensive spell, which was a tangle of vines that grew around the feet of their foes. That seemed to do something at least, and enabled Cassandra and Varric to finish them off while Solas froze any stragglers. 

Evun'ale had never killed a person before. While Cassandra and Varric went around cutting throats, checking for loot, and interrogating a survivor or two, she was violently sick in a bush. Solas held back her braid for her and then gave her a drink of water.

"I'm sorry," she said, still pointedly not looking at the pool of blood a few feet away. "I know it was important for us to protect the refugees, but all I can think about is whether any of them have children that will miss them when they come home." She could feel sobs starting to well up in her throat. "I need to be better than this."

The look Solas gave her was of painful understanding. "I know, lethallan. You have a gentle spirit. This is a difficult position for you to be in." She wanted go to him, to be held in his arms as she cried, but she knew that this was not the place nor time.

"Will it always be like this?" she asked, hating how pathetic her voice sounded. 

"No," he said, "You will grow numb to it, with time. But I hope that you will never forget the value of a life. There are too few people like you left in the world."

Cassandra and Varric returned, looking at her with pity. Evun'ale did her best to compose herself, to look the part of the hero she was supposed to be. "Let's go see Mother Giselle."

The Chantry priestess was a dark skinned woman with a heavy but pleasing accent. In fact, she was the first darker skinned person that Evun'ale had seen since she'd awoken in this unfamiliar world. _Rivaini_ said her inexplicably knowledgeable inner voice. In any case, she was pleasantly surprised to hear the priestess speaking positively of magic. Solas had explained to her, in brief, that the Chantry was not very mage-positive.

"You must be the one they are calling the Herald of Andraste," Mother Giselle said after she finished counseling a wounded soldier.

"Not through any choice of mine," Evun'ale replied, a bit testily. She did not want to be the Herald of Andraste, no matter Solas's opinions on necessary posturing. And she certainly didn't want people to think that she approved of the idea.

The Chantry Mother laughed. "We seldom have choices in our fate, I'm sad to say." _You had more of a choice than most._ her mind added. It was true, she realized. The woman from her dream had asked her if she wanted to come. That was actually somewhat of a relief to remember.

Despite Evun'ale's reservations about the Chantry, Mother Giselle did have good advice. The main power that the clerics had was in a united voice. If she could convince a few that she was not a threat, make a few more doubt, the opposition would disappear. But the most important thing that Evun'ale took away from the conversation was that the refugees needed help. There were things she could do that did not involve killing. Or at least, not primarily.

She was glad to do it, and cheerfully dragged the others all over the countryside, hunting down goats for meat, finding blankets, collecting herbs. She closed a rift inside a crumbling ruin, converting a group of cultists to her cause and convinced a young nobleman, distraught at the loss of his lover, that helping the Inquisition would ease his heartache. By the end of the day, everyone was exhausted, but Evun'ale felt almost at peace. There had been battles, yes, but none that they had instigated. And they had helped people, really helped them. 

Cassandra decided to take first watch and Varric claimed that he was too sore to sleep, so Solas and Evun'ale were left in the tent alone. She felt suddenly shy, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. "You seem to be feeling better, lethallan," Solas finally said from the shadows on the other side of the tent. 

"I am," she replied thoughtfully. "I still don't like it, having to kill people. But I know we didn't start this battle. We're standing up for those who aren't strong enough to fight. It makes me feel better, helping them."

"I could tell. You have a lightness in your step that was not there previously. It is heartening to see that we are making a real difference with such small actions." It bothered her that she couldn't see his face while he was talking, so she scooted inelegantly across the tent until she could see better. Of course, once she could see him, she realized he was shirtless, which admittedly, was hardly scandalous, but she could feel the tips of her ears going red. Possibly because she found it hard to stop looking. 

"Did you need something?" Solas asked, his voice tangled with too many emotions to name.

Evun'ale blinked, forcing herself to look down at her hands. "No...erm.. I mean, I just wanted to see your face while speaking to you. I don't like feeling like I'm talking to a disembodied voice ."

"Ah," he said, "Shield your eyes. I will make a light." She held her fingers to her brow, squinting as he conjured a tiny ball of pale green energy, which floated into the air before settling at the topmost point of the tent. Then Solas chuckled.

"What's funny all of the sudden?" she asked, confused.

"You are caked in mud and have twigs in your hair," he said, eyes dancing with humor. "Its quite becoming," he added, pulling one of the small sticks, complete with attached leaf, out of her disheveled braid.

Evun'ale grimaced. "Great. How come you're not all dirty?"

He arched his eyebrow. "I put a spell on my clothes so that they will repel dirt. Also, I do not have hair to get trees tangled in."

Evun'ale grumbled as she untied the thong of her braid and tried to comb out the tangles with her fingers. There was a sudden movement in the corner and she could feel that Solas was very near.

"Allow me to help you," he said quietly. She looked up at him, seeing the intensity of his gaze, and nodded, hardly daring to take a breath. Seating herself in the cup of his crossed legs, she felt his clever fingers working out all the knots. It was extremely soothing, and would have been more so if she had not been acutely aware of how close he was, of the sound of his soft breathing. Neither of them said anything, afraid to break the spell of the moment. Once the tangles were gone, he rebraided it more quickly than she could have done herself. 

"There. Your hair is ready for whatever twigs and mud tomorrow may bring," he said, his hands lingering on her shoulders.

She did not want the moment to end, did not want to stop being close to him, so she took a chance and leaned back against his chest. Once again, he went very still, but made no move to reject her or flee. Very slowly, his arms came around her sides and took her hands in his own. "I feel that I should discourage this sort of behavior, but I find it more difficult than I had imagined it could be." His voice was right next to her ear, lower and rougher than his usual smooth tones.

"Why are you afraid to be close to me, Solas?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

"You do not know me, Evun'ale. You cannot know what you ask. I do not want to hurt you." He laced his fingers through hers.

"You don't know me either. I don't even know me. I could legitimately be an axe-murderer."

He chuckled. "I highly doubt it, but I shall take it under advisement. However, we really should try to rest." He made to pull away but she grasped his hand tightly, turning to face him.

"I remembered something today, from before," she said, looking directly into his eyes, which were stormy gray in the dim light. "In my...dream..or vision. There was a woman, and she gave me a choice. I could come here, or I could stay where I was, in what I can only assume was a nice safe life. I chose to be here, Solas."

"Why would you choose such hardship, lethallan?" he asked, though she could tell he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Now that the time came to say it, it sounded ridiculous and she could feel her cheeks reddening, but she was already committed. "I wanted to be with you, to help you. She told me that you needed me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. He looked stunned, and she felt like she'd be happy if the earth swallowed her whole on the spot. She released his hand and fled back to her bedroll.

Solas blinked several times, calling back the little ball of light and dissolving it with a touch. He could still barely see the outline of her back facing him in the darkness. He laid back on his bedroll, suddenly remembering the dream he had interrupted in the Fade. "Don't let him push you away," the voice had said. They had been talking about him. And then came the vague memory of the dream he had back in Haven, before the explosion. It seemed like ages ago...but Mythal? Could Mythal have sent Evun'ale to him? It was insane, he couldn't let his feelings interfere with his duty.

But if Mythal had sent her, surely she had a good reason. Surely she had known... He cleared his throat and heard Evun'ale shift in her bedroll. She was awake then. "If you are feeling chilled, I would not object if you slept nearby." It was not yet cold, and they both knew that, but it was a good enough excuse. She put her bedroll next his, not quite looking at him she laid down a few inches away. It was, somehow, a more agonizing distance than several feet. His hand, almost seeming to move of its own accord, reached out and grasped her fingers in his own. She sighed with contentment, and soon her breathing was deep and even.

"You are a fool," he told himself bitterly, but his heart was leaping with joy as he closed his eyes.


	7. Shelter from the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After leaving the Hinterlands, the Herald and party return to Haven, and Solas consults an old friend who gives him unexpected advice. They travel to Val Royeaux, adding a few members to their group, and then go to the Storm Coast. Taking the advice of Wisdom to heart, Solas tries to show Evun'ale a rare sight of Thedosian wildlife that ends with them running for their lives and waiting out a storm in cave, where Solas's self-control breaks at last.

In the dark pre-dawn hours, Varric woke Solas for his watch. He realized then that he was curled around Evun'ale protectively, their fingers still entwined. Solas disentangled himself as gently as he could and sat up, pulling on his tunic. Varric was staring at him with a knowing grin.

"Not a word. Or I shall tell Cassandra about the interesting dream you were having the night before last," he whispered with narrowed eyes.

Varric's eyes widened. "Maker's balls, Chuckles, you don't pull your punches. Your secret is safe with me. But I have to tell you, Cassandra thinks its adorable."

Solas groaned and exited the tent, pacing around the campsite to shake the stiffness from his joints. What was he thinking? Getting entangled with the Herald, it jeopardized everything he'd been working for. And yet...he remembered the feeling of her warm body against his, the peace he had felt when their fingers intertwined. If Mythal had sent her, which seemed more likely the longer he thought about it, he could perhaps, very cautiously, see how the relationship progressed. He could not deny that he felt a connection, had even at the first. Leaning on his staff, he let his thoughts wander as the sun rose in the east. Perhaps the Dread Wolf did not have to hunt alone forever.

They stayed in the Hinterlands for a week, clearing out mage and templar camps, closing rifts, helping the refugees, and collecting the strange glowing shards that the ocularum revealed. Even Solas did not really know what they were, except that they were obviously magical. 

Every evening, Evun'ale allowed Solas to comb the tangles from her hair and they slept curled together at night. Most of the time, they met in the Fade and he instructed her in the most basics tenets of Dreamwalking. As he had half-expected, she proved to be a natural at manipulating the world of dreams, and he promised to give her more intensive instruction once they returned to Haven. Solas felt contented in a way he could not remember feeling since his youth, but he could not quite bring himself to take the relationship further, or express his growing feelings in words. Evun'ale already bore so many burdens, and if they were to truly to be together, many more would be added.

Finally, they returned to Haven. Evun'ale immediately wanted to take a bath, and then she convened the War Council to discuss their next move. Of course, they needed to go to Val Royeaux, and Leliana had heard reports of Gray Wardens on the Storm Coast. Normally that would hardly merit attention, but considering that all the other Gray Wardens seem to have disappeared, it was worth investigating. 

That night, Solas decided to leave the Herald to her dreams and do some research of his own. As soon as he closed his eyes, he walked the familiar paths to his old friend, Wisdom.

"Aneth ara, fen'falon," said the wispy spirit, appearing to him, as she always did, in the form of a friend from his childhood. He didn't even remember her name, now, but Wisdom bore her visage still.

"On dhea lam, hahren," he replied, seating himself on a bench that materialized beneath him.

"You seem troubled," said the spirit, bobbing over to him and seating herself so that they faced each other.

"Your vision is as clear as ever." He sighed, resting his chin in his hands. "I thought I knew my path. I was so sure. But suddenly I find myself conflicted. I found something I never thought I would, and now I want things that I should not want."

Wisdom, smiled, glowing slightly with happiness. "Fen'harel has found a hunting partner at last. But why does that make your heart so heavy?"

"If I act upon my feelings, I have to acknowledge that my plan, such as it is, constitutes a barbaric murder of thousands of innocents. How could I even consider such a thing?" he said, fiercely sorrowful.

"Perhaps it is a sign that you should pursue another solution. You have not asked my counsel on this matter before, because your heart was set. Now I will tell you my feelings freely."

Solas looked up, surprised at Wisdom and surprised at himself. He had truly never asked his oldest friend what she thought of his plan? Not for the first time, his namesake was his bane.

"Your mistakes, as you see them, may be grave, but the only way to truly atone is to accept them, not erase them," she said kindly. 

"I.." Solas started to reply, and then a wavering in the Fade around them alerted them that someone was nearby. It felt strangely familiar.

"You did not tell me your love was also a Dreamwalker, fen'falon. I can feel a connection between you. She has a bright spirit."

"She is...unique." he said, standing. Evun'ale was probably fine, but it made him nervous, knowing she was wandering the Fade alone. What if the wards failed? "You know of the one they call the Herald of Andraste?" he said distractedly.

"Many dream of her and find new hope. Is she the one that calls your spirit so strongly?" He frowned, and Wisdom laughed. "You do not have to answer, I know it is so. Do not fear, she will be safe enough. Spirits do not now what to make of that one. She is not of our world, and already your scent is upon her."

"Not of our world? I do not understand. How did she get here?" he said, feeling suddenly out of his depth.

"That I do not know. You will have to find that answer on your own. But she searches for you. I think I shall leave you for the moment. You deserve happiness, fen'falon. Do not let your sorrow cloud even the possibility of joy." Wisdom faded away, leaving Solas feeling more confused than ever. Another world? What did that even mean? 

Wisdom had been right about one thing, Evun'ale was certainly looking for him, so he dismissed the ward that had hidden him from outsiders and waited. It only took a few minutes for Evun'ale to appear, though she did a good job of pretending to have casually happened upon him rather than having been searching for him, possibly for hours. He tried to hide his smile. At least he wasn't the only one feeling somewhat conflicted about their relationship.

"Good evening, Evun'ale," he said companionably. She smiled, closing the distance between them quickly but restraining herself from throwing her arms around him.

"Solas? Have you been here the whole time?" she asked. Evidently her curiosity was stronger than her pride.

"Yes. I take it you have been looking for me?" Making a sudden decision, he held out his hand. She stared at him for a moment, unsure, and then grasped it with a smile that melted his heart. They began to walk hand in hand, the bare landscape of the Fade turning into a sun dappled forest. Solas was not even sure whether his mind or hers had chosen the scene.

"I might have been," she admitted, her ears reddening. "I swear I passed by this same place several times. I could...feel you there, but then, you weren't."

"It is a special kind of barrier that conceals as well as protects. Would you like me to show you?"

*****

They had an eventful trip to Val Royeaux. Not only did they meet the Lord Seeker, who was acting really strangely, but, after speaking briefly to the Revered Mother who the Lord Seeker had just assaulted, an arrow zipped past Evun'ale's ear and struck the ground in front of them.

"Holy crap!" she shouted. "What was that?" She bent down to pick up the offending missile. "It has a message on it. It hardly makes sense, but I think we need to look for red things?" 

The eventually deciphered the message, which led them to an arrogant noble and his men, who had been deprived of their pants by an odd elven woman who called herself Red Jenny. Or Sera, depending. As far as Evun'ale could tell, she was promising information from the common people, so she accepted her offer of help.

Then as they tried to leave the city once more, they were invited to attend a party hosted by someone terribly important sounding. She turned out to be a Rivaini mage with extravagant taste in hats. After speaking with her briefly, Evun'ale decided that she did not particularly like Madame de Fer, but the Inquisition could definitely use her political pull. 

As they attempted to leave Val Royeaux for the final time, an older elven woman wearing mage robes approached them. Cassandra identified her as Grand Enchanter Fiona, the leader of the mage Rebellion. Fiona invited the Inquisition to negotiate with the mages in Redcliffe, which was an offer Evun'ale intended to take her up on, but they had a lot of things to take care of.

Finally, they made it back to Haven. Evun'ale could not have been more relieved. "Ugh. Remind me to never move to Orlais," she said on the ride back. "The clothes look uncomfortable and those masks are really weird."

Cassandra laughed. "That I can agree with. The merchant by the cafe had a collar so large you could hardly see her face. Well, she was wearing a mask, but you know what I mean."

"The fashion does seem rather inconvenient. But those little cakes they sell in the market are delicious," Solas said, with a look of almost rapturous pleasure on his face. Everyone stared at him a moment before starting to laugh.

"That was the most unexpected thing I've heard all week. And that's after I saw the Lord Seeker punch a Chantry mother," Varric said.

*****

After a brief stop in Haven, they headed out to the Storm Coast to look for the Grey Wardens. It was...very wet. The second morning they were there, Solas woke Evun'ale up early with a finger to his lips.

"If we are quiet and careful, we may be able to witness something extraordinary," he said.

So they crept to the top of a nearby ridge, squinting through the gray mist and drizzle of early morning. When they reached the top, Solas pointed down, but he needn't have, as the enormous racket from the beach below had already alerted Evun'ale to where the action was. There was a giant and a huge storm dragon doing their best to murder each other, less than ten feet below them. It was the wildest, most magnificent thing she had ever seen.

Who knows how long they laid there watching, though the rain had begun to fall in earnest and Evun'ale was sure she was going to have a bruise on her ribs from the pointy rock underneath it. It was worth every chill and bruise, though, to see the majesty of the dragon in her fury and to be lying next to Solas, their bodies just barely touching. A sudden loud crack of thunder and blinding flash of lightning startled both them and the combatants on the beach. The dragon looked right up at them, her pupils narrowing as she focused.

"We should leave," Solas said in a quiet but urgent voice.

"Yes, let's," Evun'ale squeaked as the dragon started to flaps its wings. The giant, looking a bit worse for the wear, also turned toward them and howled.

Solas pulled her roughly up by the elbow, and then they were running. They could hear the dragon roaring, and it seemed to be right behind them, though that might have been the influence of fear rather than reality. They ran until they were out of breath.

Evun'ale stood doubled over with her hands on her knees, panting. "That was insane!" she said finally, half elated and half terrified.

"Yes," Solas huffed. "I never thought to see a wild dragon quite so closely. Let us not do that again."

Evun'ale laughed. "It's a deal. But where are we?" Nothing around them looked familiar.

Solas glanced around, frowning. "I am not sure. I think our camp was to the east. Shall we climb up and look?"

That proved much more difficult than they imagined. The hillside was slick and steeper than it looked. After a few tries they were both sore and covered in mud. And the storm was getting worse.

"I think there's one of those caves over here," Evun'ale said. "Let's just wait until it clears up or we'll get even more lost."

There was indeed a small cave in the rear of valley which, to both their surprises, was not infested with spiders or deepstalkers. It even had a small cache of supplies, and by the thick layer of dust, it didn't seem likely that the owner would return. Evun'ale managed to light a fire in the well-used fire pit, dropping her sodden mud-caked boots beside it, but she was still shivering.

"You should take off your wet clothes, lethallan. Cassandra will never forgive me if you become ill."

"If you wanted t-to see m-m-me naked, you c-could've just asked," she said through chattering teeth.

Solas came over, already shirtless, his pants rolled up past his knees, a crooked smile on his face. "I would have arranged something far more romantic than nearly being eaten by a dragon if that was my goal," he said quietly, watching her struggling to remove her wet armor.

Without saying a word, he closed the distance between them and pulled the stiff leather over her head, followed quickly by her sodden shirt. She yelped as a gust of cold air hit her bare back and he smiled. "Come over here and be warm," he said, pulling her over to the fire and sitting down. She sat down beside him, teeth still chattering, and to her surprise, he pulled her into his lap, so that her back rested against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, his chin resting on her damp hair and they sat in silence for a while as the warmth seeped into her body. It was so comfortable, she could have almost gone to sleep, but as the shivering abated, she was able to fully appreciate the fact that their bare skin was touching and that it felt wonderful.

Though she was afraid any movement would disturb the moment, she tilted her head to look up at him. His eyes were closed and his face looked so peaceful and beautiful that she couldn't help but reach up to trace the curve of his cheekbone with her fingers. Blue-gray eyes flickered opened, but rather than looking confused or conflicted as they often did when she touched him, Solas smiled and kissed the top of her head.

She turned to face him. "You seem...different today," she said. "Not that I'm complaining."

He chuckled. "I received some wise advice, to not let my sorrow cloud even the possibility of joy. So that is what I am trying to do."

Evun'ale smiled. "That is good advice. But it makes me wonder why you have so much sadness." She put her arms around his neck and he leaned his forehead against hers. 

"That I would not burden you with today. Right now I would just enjoy your company," he said, reaching his hands up to her face and gently running his thumbs over the marks on her cheeks.

"I will always give you my company,' she said, and then, his sudden affection making her daring, she kissed him gently on the lips. He took a deep slow breath.

"I promised myself that I would do nothing rash as far you are concerned, but you always find a way to slip past my self control."

"You don't always have to be controlled with me, Solas. I'm not afraid. I want to be with you." Her breath was already ragged, her body responding to their closeness as well as the scorching look he was now giving her.

He took a breath, and another, his eyes gazing in to hers, his hands still cupping her face, and then he kissed her, tenderly and slowly. She melted into his embrace, and his fingers tangled in her hair as her mouth opened against his and his tongue brushed her own.

He groaned, feeling the last of his reservations slip away as he pulled her down to the floor beside him, kissing her neck and her breastbone as he gently ran calloused thumbs over her nipples. She gasped at his touch, and her nails lightly scratched down his back, making him gasp in turn. They both laughed, feeling like teenagers as their fingers fumbled with the lacing of their pants. But when they finally came together it was more like magic than any spell they had ever cast. 

The rhythm of give and take as they moved together was a song that set their blood on fire, and Evun'ale knew that the look of amazement in Solas's eyes mirrored her own. Was it always supposed to be like this? Their bodies fitting together like two halves a whole until a crescendo of pleasure that left them weak and shaking. Then they lay wrapped in each other's arms and Solas felt such a deep feeling of peace that he wondered why he had ever resisted her touch. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, who he really was, that he loved her, that he never wanted to be apart from her, but he could not make himself say the words. What they had was so new, he feared the slightest touch would break it.

Eventually, they decided together that the floor was too hard to lay upon any longer, and they got back into their now dry clothes, perhaps with rather more touching than was necessary, and Solas braided Evun'ale's hair. The sun came out. They walked hand in hand back to camp, following the beach now that they were fairly sure the giant was gone.

When they returned, Cassandra threw up her hands in exasperation, while Varric laughed. "She was about to send a rescue mission, but I told her I was sure you had just decided to wait out the storm nearby." He gave them a knowing smile.

"She almost did have to rescue us," Evun'ale said, unable to sop grinning. "We saw a dragon and a giant fighting, and then the dragon looked right at us. It started flapping its wings like it was considering it's breakfast options. We ran so far that we got lost."

"Herald, not even I buy that story," Varric said, laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got away from me a bit, getting ridiculously long and surprisingly smutty. I may split it later. But for now, enjoy.
> 
> Aneth ara, fen'falon: Welcome, friend wolf.  
> On dhea'lam, hahren: Good afternoon, elder.


	8. Propriety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas tries to back off from Evun'ale, wishing to do things the right way. But it is much more difficult than either of them expected.

They stayed in the Storm Coast for a few more days, but Solas did not speak of their time in the cave. Evun'ale knew he thought of it sometimes, because his eyes would grow distant and his ears and cheeks would redden. She did not push him, content to return to their nightly routine of hair braiding and close sleeping. Conversations about their relationship could wait until they were back at Haven.

They found only tantalizing clues to the Gray Warden presence. It seemed whoever this Warden Blackwall was, he was long gone. The only other thing they accomplished, besides the typical closing of rifts, was to recruit the Blades of Hessarian to their cause.

Evun'ale wasn't sure how to feel about it. The Blades had ruthlessly killed Inquisition soldiers for no reason. Yet, they claimed it was the code of loyalty that held them. And now their loyalty was hers. So that was good?

They returned to Haven, glad at last to be warm and dry. Evun'ale briefed the advisors, offering her opinions on a few operations, and then she retreated to her cabin for a warm bath in front of a blazing hearth.

She was just sinking into the water when there was a knock at the door. "Come in, if you don't mind naked elves." That ought to scare most people off. But, to her surprises the door opened, bringing with it a swirl of wintry air and the sound of quiet footfalls. 

"My apologies for disturbing your bath, Evun'ale," Solas said quietly, a slight hitch in his speech.

"You, I don't mind, Solas," she said turning to him with a slow smile. "I'd invite you in, but I don't think the tub's big enough."

She could see his blush even in the dim light. "I..that is..." He rubbed his head with his hand. "This is not how I had planned our conversation."

Evun'ale frowned. Was he going to push her away already? The very thought nearly made her cry, but she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

He looked up again, surprised at the sound of hurt in her voice. "No, I... that is not what I meant." He strode to the side of the tub, kneeling so their faces were level, taking one of her hands in his.

"I came to apologize for my behavior. In the cave. It has been a long time for me, and I lost control," he said, the tips of his ears reddening at the memory. He tried to keep his eyes from straying down to her bare skin in the water.

"Solas, you have nothing to apologize for. I'm a big girl, I knew exactly what I wanted, and it was you."

He cleared his throat, trying to still the racing of his heart, the rise of his own arousal at her words. "I know that, lethallan," he said roughly. 

"Did you not enjoy yourself?" she asked tremulously, raising her hand to his cheek. He closed his eyes against her touch, it was a balm to his spirit.

"That is not it at all," he said, frowning. "I am sorry, I am not very good at this, outside of the Fade. What I want to say is that I care for you, deeply."

The raw emotion in his eyes was almost painful to see. "I care for you too, Solas. Very much," she replied, lamely, her confusion over the conversation making her even less eloquent as usual. 

He took a deep breath, finally feeling like he had the thread of the conversation in hand. "As such, I want to do things properly."

"Meaning?" she asked, her consternation wrinkling her forehead, making him wish to smooth it away. 

_Stay on track, Solas,_ he told himself. He was so vulnerable to her, one look would push him to refute his own words. It gave him a strangely heady feeling of unbalance. "Meaning, I would like to court you as you deserve. To win your heart the right way."

Evun'ale gave him a crooked smile. "You want to woo me?" _As if I needed wooing. I am already his, body and soul_

"Yes," he said. "Do not laugh. Humor me in this, if you will." His face was so serious that it made Evun'ale smile. She kissed him on the brow.

"I am not laughing," she said. "I think it's unnecessary, but if it makes you happy, its certainly all right with me."

"Thank you, Evun'ale. If I might ask you one more favor?" This one was harder on him, but necessary.

"Of course," she said easily.

"Next time you go out," he said, his heart paining him at the words, "Would you allow me to remain here? I have some things I would like to research." _And if my discipline is to hold for any length of time I need to be away from her._

"Oh," she said, unable to keep the sadness and hurt from her face. "Yes, of course. I'm sure you're tired. I can take Vivienne. I should probably give Varric a rest as well," she said, forcing herself to look away from him, to feign nonchalance at the idea of separation.

Solas could hardly bear it. He cursed himself inwardly. But things would be better this way. If there was to be a future for them.... He would just have to make it up to her later. He allowed himself to embrace her, not caring about the water, inhaling the smell of her hair. "I will miss you. Do not doubt my feelings for you, Evun'ale. I just need time."

"Take whatever time you need, Solas," she said, a concession that he knew hurt her. Why did she need him so badly? And why did he understand? Even the idea of being apart from her seemed like torture. He needed to get his head together.

'I'll leave you to your bath then, lethallan," he said, retreating before he could change his mind. Evun'ale sat in the bath a long time, feeling such a storm of emotions that she could hardly make sense of them.

That night, she did not seek him out in the Fade, and he was not brave enough to broach her dreams again, but he felt the loss of her company like a physical pain. He could only hope that he hadn't screwed up things too badly.

*******

The next morning, Evun'ale woke to find a pile of things on the end of her bed. On top of the pile was a crisp piece of parchment, sealed with green wax. She broke the seal, curious, but as soon as she saw the elegant script, so like him in its understated grace, she knew.

_Evun'ale,  
I thought you might wish for some reading material while you are away. It will be beneficial to you to learn something of the history and culture of the area and you might find these books enjoyable. Also, I have enclosed a journal so that you might record your thoughts and travels, if you wish. Dareth shiral, 'ma falon._

_Solas_

Evun'ale hoped one of these books was on the elvish language. She had started to wonder what she was missing. But these were books on history and culture, even a book of Dalish fairy tales and one of ancient Elvhen and Tevene poetry. And the journal, a simple yet beautifully made book of unlined brown paper and a leather cover. It had been stamped with a forest scene, seeming random and generic at first, but as Evun'ale peered at it she realized that it had to have been made especially for her, perhaps even by Solas himself. It showed a fox under a full moon, and a wolf greeting the fox with a gesture of tender affection. Solas had already explained to her that her name meant 'moon fox' in Elvhen. She sighed, not knowing exactly what to think.

Upon her arrival at the Chantry a man approached her. He was young, handsome, and clad in armor. Something was different about him but..."Cremisius Aclassi, at your service, Herald."

"What can I do for you?" she asked, legitimately curious.

"I represent a company of mercenaries called the Bull's Chargers." Evun'ale knew next to nothing about mercenaries, though she felt that she somehow had heard of this particular group. She and 'Krem,' as he liked to be called, discussed the Chargers and their leader, The Iron Bull, for several minutes before she agreed to come to the Storm Coast to see them in action. Then she went to the war table to speak with Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine.

"I'd like to stop by the Storm Coast, and then head out to the Fallow Mire to rescue our soldiers," she said after they had exchanged pleasantries.

"Taking your usual team, I suppose?" Cullen said blandly, but she could see the question in his eyes. Varric probably hadn't shut up since they arrived back home. Sometimes, she wanted to slap his smarmy grin right off his face.

"No," she said firmly, trying to neither blush nor express the sadness that she felt at the thought of being away. "They need a rest. I thought I might bring Sera and Vivienne instead, see how we work together. Unfortunately, Cassandra will have to come. I don't have another warrior to replace her yet, and I need a veteran to back me up."

"Understood," Cullen said, a raised eyebrow the only indicator of surprise.

"You'll have to give them time to be properly outfitted," Leliana said, whether to dissuade her or just to be informative Evun'ale did not know.

"We leave tomorrow morning. That should be plenty of time. The Storm Coast is going to be a quick trip. We'll stop back here if there are problems," she said, trying to sound reasonable, rather than divulging the embarrassing truth. Which was that she was fleeing from her confusing feelings about Solas's request for time.

"Very well," Leliana replied. Evun'ale went back out into Haven, chatted with Cassandra and Cullen. She avoided Solas's cabin like it was a den of darkspawn, instead going to the smithy to see about a better staff and robes. That done, and still half the day to go, she went out into the woods surrounding Haven. Exploring, she said, but walking to clear her head was closer to the truth.

Why did it even bother her so much? Yes, she had come here for him, she knew that much, but why? Why did it feel like her heart did not beat if he was not near? They hardly knew each other, it was no wonder he needed space. Yet...she had seen the intensity of the feelings in his eyes. Perhaps he had been frightened by the strength of his own emotions. But she knew there was something she was missing. Something that lurked on the edges of her memory much as the white wolf seemed to prowl around her heart. Loving him was only part of her true purpose. She had to...do something. Keep something from happening. If only she knew what.

She came back to her cabin after nightfall, just exhausted enough to eat some food and fall asleep. Once the cabin was filled with her soft snoring, the door opened silently. Solas looked down at her, his eyes bright with the depth of his feelings. He bent down to kiss her brow, pushing a lock of hair from her forehead. She smiled in her sleep, making his breath catch in his throat. Leaving his gift, he retreated quickly before his emotions could overcome his discipline.

When Evun'ale awoke the next day, she found on her pillow a beautiful flower that she had never seen before. Shaped like a wild lily, but dark blue and purple with pale yellow stars in the center. She picked it up and smelled it. Evun'ale had never had a particularly good sense of smell, but this flower had a strong fragrance even to her. Not the kind of sickly sweet, cloying smell she expected from a flower either, but a musky woodsy smell. It was almost as if, every time she smelled it, she could imagine herself in a shadowy forest, the sounds and smells of a nearby stream, the rich scent of a wild wolf at her side. It took her breath away. She reverently placed it in a jar of water before she left, sad to think it would likely be dead by the time she returned.

She mounted her horse at the gates, joined by Sera, Vivienne and Cassandra. "Check it out, Femquisition," the blond archer said with a snort. Vivienne rolled her eyes. They rode out, Evun'ale letting her eyes only look back once, searching for the little cabin on top of the hill. She did not see Solas, but perhaps she had only imagined the sad howl of a wolf as they rode away.

*******

It was not a fun trip. Vivienne and Sera sniped at each other constantly, making both Evun'ale and Cassandra irritable. "I have decided that, as foolish as they may be, I would much rather travel with men," the Seeker told her quietly as they took first and second watch.

"Missing Varric already?" Evun'ale teased, looking up from her book of poetry. At first she could not fathom why Solas had given her this particular volume. It said very little about culture or history, and had a lot of boring drivel about the Old Gods. But occasionally she would find a small mark next to one of the stanzas. Or a phrase would be underlined in a neat hand. She chalked it up as coincidence until she realized that every single marked place was romantic in some way. Solas might not be so articulate when voicing his feelings, but he wasn't kidding when he said he wanted to woo her.

Cassandra blushed and then scowled. "I meant nothing of the sort. You and Solas are the ones who.. I only meant that..."

"I know Cassandra. I miss them too. Think how much quicker we'd get going in the morning." The Seeker snorted.

The Bull's Chargers proved to be as competent as advertised, and their leader, a massive Qunari warrior with an eye patch, was both intimidating and refreshingly irreverent. She signed them on without reservation. They rode back toward Haven, and Evun'ale told Cassandra to stay there and rest. She would take Iron Bull and the two women to the Fallow Mire.

"Are you certain? You know, you also are allowed to have a break," Cassandra said, concerned when Evun'ale shook her head in reply, looking as if she might cry. Something was obviously wrong with the Herald and Cassandra had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with a certain elven apostate. The Seeker rode back determined to have a word with him.

******

Separation had seemed like such a good idea. He just needed time to think. Whatever Wisdom said, he couldn't just abandon his goals for the first pretty woman to show interest in him. And he did really have research to do. There was a connection between Evun'ale and himself that he didn't understand, and he wanted answers. So he went to the Fade to look.

It took a bit of searching, finding the right sort of magical energy to look for in the wash of wild power that was the Fade. But there it was, a tenuous silver line like an umbilical cord linking him to her. He knew it the second he touched it. It thrummed with the sound of her voice, vibrating in his heart with a feeling of such profound love and need that he nearly cried out. He decided to follow it carefully, but had no way of preparing for where it led him.


	9. Mi'nas'sal'in: The Knife Again in my Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The separation is hard on the both of them. Solas discovers things in the Fade, has a talk with Varric. A lot of Solas POV.

_Love at the lips was touch_  
_As sweet as I could bear,_  
_And once that seemed too much,_  
_I lived on air._  
_I craved strong sweets, but those_  
_Seemed strong when I was young:_  
_The petal of the rose_  
_It was that stung._  
_Now no joy but lacks salt,_  
_That is not dashed with pain_  
_And weariness and fault;_  
_I crave the stain_  
_Of tears, the aftermark_  
_Of almost too much love,_  
_The sweet of bitter bark_  
_And burning clove._  
_When stiff and sore and scarred_  
_I take away my hand_  
_From leaning on it hard_  
_In grass or sand,_  
_The hurt is not enough:_  
_I long for weight and strength_  
_To feel the earth as rough_  
_To all my length._

Evun'ale put the book down, feeling unexpectedly moved by the ancient Elvhen words. In fact, it the pain did not go away. She felt sadness, loneliness, fear, and so much love, and it was so sudden it did not even feel like it belonged to her. It ebbed slowly, leaving her with just her usual lingering misery. 

They had arrived in the Fallow Mire the previous day. It was the most miserable place she had ever been. For one thing, it rained ALL the time. A constant drizzle. At least the Storm Coast had a wild beauty to it. Old ruins, forests, cliffs, the ocean, _caves with sexy elven mages in them_ added her brain. She frowned. The Fallow Mire was just a swamp, filled with abandoned farmsteads and hordes of the undead. Add to that an upstart Avar chief who wanted her head so he could boast about it, and it was a recipe for worst vacation ever.

And she missed Solas, with every fiber of her being. She longed for his touch, his arms around her at night, his gentle fingers working the tangles from her hair. She missed his dry humor, his wise counsel, and his quiet support.

She would have liked to ask him about the Veilfire runes on the beacons they found, or to have had someone pleasant to talk to. Sera was funny, and her heart was generally in the right place, but Evun'ale found her too crude and brash to want to converse with much. Vivienne was a bitch. The kind of girl Evun'ale had hated her whole life. Cunning and selfish, manipulative and ambitious, the only thing enjoyable about her was watching how bizarrely Iron Bull acted in her presence. 

The Qunari was fun at times, and intelligent enough to have an interesting discussion with, but a bit....scary. And that weird religion gave Evun'ale a faint feeling of nausea. But Vivienne handled him as deftly as a puppeteer with a marionette. It was creepy. If Evun'ale hadn't had those troops to rescue from the thrice-dratted Avar, she might have ridden back to Haven and flung herself into Solas's arms, his propriety be damned.

She was glad for her watch to be over, to climb into her bedroll, pushed to the far end of the tent away from the others. Her only consolation was that, after all the nights they had slept curled together, her blanket still smelled faintly of him, and she drifted to sleep to the smell of herbs and woodsmoke.

*****

The lucky thing about the Fade was that it reacted to intention, so once Solas had decided to follow the silver cord, he found the end quickly. It did not however, lead directly to Evun'ale, but instead to an eluvian. That was strange. Of course, it might not be an actual eluvian, but a metaphor for a portal to somewhere. He went through with little hesitation. In the Fade, he was the master, after all.

But when he arrived, wherever, he regretted his lack of caution, as he was nearly swamped by her memories. At first there were so many he could barely comprehend, but he pushed them away with his power so he could sift through them. There she was as a child, her fair hair and brilliant eyes unmistakable, though it was odd that she seemed...human. He skimmed these memories, doubting they were relevant. Her world was very different, but not so different that her life story was alien to him. She was a clever child, he could see that, creative and talented, a child who found delight in everything, especially learning. Then he saw a man hitting her, degrading her, breaking her spirit. She changed, becoming fearful and withdrawn.

Solas was hardly aware that he had turned into a wolf, the black wolf with six red eyes, the Bringer of Nightmares, so great was his rage. But still she grew, an awkward adolescent, a young adult weighed down by the pain of her past. He saw her struggle to make her own path, her determination shining through, her spirit slowly restoring itself as she grew older. 

Then he saw her with another man. He couldn't help the feeling of jealousy. They had children, two girls. Evun'ale had been a loving mother, especially with her second child, a dark haired daughter with gray eyes who liked to cuddle and to sing. He saw Evun'ale painting, singing, baking, everything she did suffused with the same joy and gentleness he knew of her now, that had somehow survived the darkness of her childhood.

Then he saw himself. He couldn't figure out how they knew each other. It was very strange, it was like she was living another life in her dreams, and this one had him in it. But in that dream life of him, he had hurt her, more than once. And then he saw the face of Mythal. And no more. Just another eluvian and the silver thread continued through.

The eluvian was closed. And he understood. Mythal had blocked it here, keeping Evun'ale from her past. For, even if she had made the choice willingly, according to her, it would be painful for her to see what she had left. If she remembered her daughter with the gray eyes, her other child, her husband, would she not feel guilty? 

He could not unlock the eluvian without breaking it, and he was not sure he should. Though he detested the deception of Mythal, he understood the motivation, and if the memories were released all at once, especially with no one to comfort her, Evun'ale could be overwhelmed. At the wrong moment, it might well prove deadly. Plus, he had a feeling that in her past she had known a lot more about him. He didn't want to lie to her, but neither did he want to spring the truth on her so suddenly, before even he had decided what to do.

Then, there was the silver thread connecting them and he still had little clue what it might mean. Solas plucked at it again, his soul keening in tune with it. He cautiously touched it with his magic and as he did so, he felt something. Carefully, he threaded a bit more power into it, and it seemed to grow. As it did, he realized that he had begun to feel things...emotions...that did not belong to him. He fed the link a bit more, feeling a mix of irritation, and familiar loneliness mixed with love sharp and brilliant as starlight. There was a spike of fear and courage, then fatigue. These had to be Evun'ale's emotions. He had opened the link, strengthened it somehow, and now he felt what she was feeling.

Solas thought about it for several minutes, considering, his curiosity and caution warring in his brain. He decided to do no more experimenting that night. Wisdom might know something about it, and there might be books on the subject. He did not want to hurt her, or himself. With that in mind, he pulled a little of the magic back out of the link. There was a chance that she could feel his emotions as well. If they were strong from this far away, they could prove to be dangerously distracting.

He left her memories, plodding through the Fade as his mind whirled and then suddenly, he woke up.

Someone was knocking on his door. He squinted. Was it morning already? By the light it was late afternoon. _Fenedhis!_

Cassandra's voice shouted from the other side. "Solas, if you don't come out here I will break down this door." She pounded on it again, stopping in mid-knock as it opened in front of her.

"Lady Seeker. Is something wrong?" he said, surprised at how drawn and weary his voice sounded.

She stared at him with narrowed eyes. Varric stood behind her. "Andraste's tits, Chuckles. You look like shit."

"Thank you, Varric, for the observation," he said aridly. "I have been in the Fade. For longer than I intended, it seems."

"Apparently so. What, may I ask, were you doing?" Cassandra said, unmoved by his pathetic condition..

"Research," he replied, which was true. "I thought you were in the field with Ev...the Herald." Had something happened to her? Nothing had seemed terribly amiss through their link but...

"I was, but she sent me home after our trip to the coast. The captain of the mercenary company we hired was a decent warrior, so she gave me leave. She has been acting strangely and I know it is your fault," the Seeker said, looking as if she might draw her blade at any moment. He took an involuntary step backwards.

Varric put a broad hand between them. "Listen, Seeker, your heart is in the right place, but I think you'd better let me handle this. Look at the guy! He doesn't need an interrogation, he needs a sandwich." Cassandra snorted and stalked off and Varric let himself in to the cabin. Solas slumped at the table, feeling more miserable and guilty than usual. If these two could tell something was wrong with Evun'ale, something must really be wrong. He would never have called either of them particularly emotionally astute.

"Want some tea, Chuckles?" Varric asked, busy helping himself to the contents of Solas's pantry.

"No. I detest tea," he replied grumpily. Varric slid a plate of fruit and cheese over to him. He frowned at it. "Why are you here, Varric?"

"Well, last week, you and the Herald were practically inseparable. I was pretty sure you would be married by the end of the month. Now, she's off courting death without you, refusing to return to Haven to rest, and being evasive about why. While you haven't left your house in three days and look like a walking corpse. Cassandra was sure you'd broken her heart, but if anything, you look worse than she does."

"I requested to remain here for a time," he admitted. "I thought I was doing the right thing." He spun the plate around idly, wanting to do something with his hands.

"Eat the food, don't play with it. What are you, three? Why, might I ask, did you want to stay here, Chuckles? You seemed happy in the field. In fact, I thought out of the four of us, you seemed the least exhausted" Varric asked, sliding onto the chair across from him.

Solas glared at the dwarf, but Varric was oblivious. He put a piece of cheese in his mouth to placate him. "I actually did have work to do, but since I doubt you will be deterred..." he sighed. "I do care for Evun'ale but..."

"Let me guess, you guys got freaky in some cave in the Storm Coast and now you feel bad about it. So you told her you wanted to do things properly. But she is so Maker-blasted beautiful that you thought it would be better to put a little distance between you two to cool the fire a little bit. Because the strength of your own feelings terrifies you. Does that about cover it?"

Solas stared at the dwarf as though he had just burst into flame. How had he known? Was it that obvious? "I thought I was being discreet," he finally said, shaking his head ruefully.

Varric laughed, not a little smugly. "Oh, you were, Chuckles. I mean, I'm sure Nightingale knows every word you two have ever spoken to each other, but other than that, I doubt anyone but me has any idea, though Cassandra certainly has suspicions. I'm just good at reading people."

"Apparently," Solas said, sighing, wanting to lay his head on the table. Technically, he'd been asleep for the past three days, but emotionally and magically, he was exhausted. And he hadn't eaten. He took a piece of fruit; it actually did help to eat but he hated giving Varric the satisfaction.

"Listen, Chuckles. I'm sure you don't want my advice, but I'm going to tell you anyway. I saw the way she looked at you. She doesn't given a damn about proper or not, she's crazy about you. And you are for her. She needs your love and support now, not after an extended period of courtship. Things are shitty, and likely to get shittier. Do you want the last thing you ever said to her to be, 'Sure, I like you, but why don't you face down death by yourself because I have an important book to read?'"

"I......" Solas actually had nothing to say to that. It was a surprisingly good point. 

"I'll leave you to think it over. But if your freaky Fade stuff gives you a way to talk to her, you should. I think everyone would feel better if she came back to Haven for a while. It's not just you who loses if she works herself to death, after all."

That was certainly true. Solas had not expected to hear wisdom out of Varric's mouth, but this world continued to surprise him. Perhaps Felassan had been right. But what then? He'd killed an agent...a friend...needlessly. And planned to do worse. 

He ate and bathed and went for a walk in the snow. The cool air helped clear his thoughts. His feet led him to her house, of all places, though she was not there. He pushed open the door, seeing his flower blooming by her bedside. That, he thought with a smile, was a good piece of magic. 

He went to sit on her bed, his head in his hands. This place did not have much of her in it yet, but there were some small touches. On the desk he saw some sketches of things she had seen. The dwarf statue on the Storm Coast, surrounded by wind and waves. The waterfall at Lake Luthias. The storm dragon. There was a pile of papers pushed under the others and he reached over to see what they were.

Sketches of him. His face sleeping, twirling a staff in battle, sitting on a ruined wall with the moon behind him. And even a sketch of the white wolf from the Fade. She knew him well. He sank back down on the bed. Varric was right. She needed him, but he might have needed her even more. 

Solas laid down on the bed to think, allowing himself to be comforted by her scent, sunshine and citrus, blackberries and cinnamon. He fell asleep.

He was a bit surprised to be in the Fade again, but he knew he had taxed himself with his earlier investigations. One thing he could definitely do was find Evun'ale and tell her to come home. But it was still early. He went back to Wisdom.

"Back so soon, fen'falon?" she said, "You must be having difficulties to be in need of Wisdom so often."

"Undoubtedly," he said as he seated himself. "Partly because I have so little experience in these matters. And partly because I have come to realize that I am more foolish than even I previously thought."

"More trouble with your Herald, I take it?" Wisdom's voice bubbled with mirth.

"Of a sort. You said you felt a connection, I did not initially realize you meant a literal one. I tried to study it, but discovered little and I am afraid to meddle with it further. Probing it with magic seemed to expand it."

"You felt her. Her emotions," Wisdom said knowingly.

"Yes. What does that mean? Where does it come from? When I traced it, I found her memories, locked away by Mythal. But I could not go further without breaking the block, which I feared would damage her irreparably."

"That was wise. If she is to access those memories, she will need to do it herself. I would guess that Mythal has set them to be freed when she is ready. The bond itself...you know the myth of the nas'falon?"

"The soul friend? I always thought it was a superstition," he said with raised eyebrows.

"No," Wisdom said with a smile. "It is just rare. No one knows why. The spirits do not even know how it came to be. Some think that when a powerful spirit dies, it may split. But the two spirits born are always connected, their fates intertwining time and time again. The thought goes that the nature of the connection depends on the nature of the original spirit."

"By that logic, you are suggesting that she and I..." He paused. It was too audacious for words.

"If the theory is correct, it would mean that you and the Herald were once a powerful spirit of Love."

"If that is so, how did she end up in another world? Should she not still be roaming the Fade here?"

"No one knows what happens to mortals when they die. If her spirit was trapped in a mortal body when the Veil was created, perhaps that is what happened to her." Wisdom shrugged. "We have little way of knowing. But whatever the cause, you are connected, and will remain so. Likely not even death will break the bond."

"Why have I not found her before? Even if mortal death was what caused her to be sent elsewhere, there were thousands of years between my birth and when I raised the Veil." As much as he trusted Wisdom, it all seemed very unlikely. It was like a fairy tale for children. The world was never that simple.

"Who knows? Maybe she was bound in an object or to a spell. Maybe she lived many mortal lives far away. It is harder for mortals to feel it." Wisdom glowed with humor. "Questioning it will not make it go away, fen'falon. Most people dream of finding such a love. Accept the gift you have been given, and then find a way to bring your love and your duty together. You already know in your heart that your plan is wrong."

Solas frowned. He felt like everyone was giving him lessons today, and he was a schoolboy wearing a dunce cap. 

"Pride," Wisdom said fondly, "Long ages ago you took a body so that you could learn wisdom. Do not let your name cloud your judgement." She faded away then, leaving Solas with his thoughts. He never expected to get the same advice from Varric Tethras as he got from a spirit of wisdom. A lot of things had been surprising him lately. For once, he had to consider the possibility that he did not know quite as much as he thought he did. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Whatever he did, he needed to see Evun'ale. Perhaps now she was asleep. If he calmed himself, he could feel her. Utter exhaustion, but a feeling of triumph. Physical pain. And she missed him. He knew that mix of love and sorrow for what it was because it was the same in his own heart. He waited, feeling her emotions becoming muted, slower. Then he walked into her dream the moment it sprung into being.

"Solas?" The sound of her voice made his eyes light up, even as the hesitant loneliness he heard within made him feel more horrible. She stood, rain pouring over her in a miserable swamp, hugging herself, clearly unsure what the protocol was in this situation.

He closed the distance between them quickly, enfolding her in his arms. The scene changed to something more pleasant. "Ir abelas, ma lath," he heard himself say, his ears reddening at the realization. But she seemed to not have noticed his accidental heart-baring. "I have caused you pain," he said into her hair.

"You have really got to teach me elvish one of these days. I feel like I miss half of our conversations," she said, her tone falsely light. He could feel her shaking.

"I am sorry, I sometimes forget that you were not born one of the People." He pulled back, stroking her hair, his eyes boring into her. "Are you well? Cassandra returned and she gave me quite an earful."

Evun'ale laughed. "Good old Cassandra. She's a softie at heart. She was getting a bit suspicious," she said, sighing and leaning her head against his chest. "I just," she swallowed, not sure if this would be a good thing to say but unwilling to lie. "I missed you more than I thought I would."

"I have missed you as well," he admitted, his voice rough. He cupped her face in his hands so that she would look at him. "I thought it would be for the best, but I was mistaken. I am...unused to such things. I am sorry." 

"You don't have to be nice just because I'm being a big baby," she replied defiantly. "I said I would give you time. You can tell Cassandra I'm fine and to stop bullying you."

"I did not come for Cassandra," he said fiercely. "I came for myself. I need you, Evun'ale. I have done nothing but think of you since the moment we parted. It has not been very conducive to research," he added wryly as she looked at him with wide eyes. He could tell that she was confused, that didn't trust her eyes or her ears. He could hardly blame her, as indecisive as he had been. For all she knew, he was just a desire demon come to tempt her.

He kissed her on the forehead gently and saw that there were tears in her eyes. He brushed them away with his thumbs. "I do not blame you for being confused. I confess that I am not entirely sure what to do myself. But I would like it if you would return to Haven so that we can speak in person. And also, so Cassandra and Varric will not murder me. Next time you go, I will come with you."

Finally, she sighed, relaxing against him. "I just rescued the soldiers. No reason to stay in this rainy hellhole. We'll leave in the morning." She looked up at him again, her eyes less troubled. "You'll be there waiting for me?"

He smiled, glad at least that she no longer questioned her sanity. "If I am not the first to greet you, you may bestow whatever punishment you wish." Her grin was positively wicked and he immediately regretted saying the words. "I really should be going, however. I am afraid I have fallen asleep in your bed and I do not wish to frighten the servants."

"Seriously?" she said, grinning widely. His face was all the answer she needed. "I'll be there in a couple of days," she said, daring to reach up to touch his face.

He covered her hand with his own and bent down, giving her a tender kiss. "I will be waiting." Then he was gone. Evun'ale slept more soundly that night than she had in the past week.

Solas woke up slowly. It was just before dawn. He felt much better, physically and emotionally, though he was starving. He went to Cullen, not quite ready to face Cassandra, and told him the Herald would be leaving the Fallow Mire shortly and that the soldiers had been rescued. The Commander received this news with a blank expression.

"How could you possibly know that?" he said after a moment.

"I saw the Herald in the Fade," he said testily. "I was...concerned for her safety. it does not matter whether you believe me or not, she will be here soon."

"Hmmmmm," was all Cullen said in reply. Solas stalked into the kitchens and grabbed a whole roast chicken and a plate of tea cakes before the cooks could so much as blink. Then he went to the library.

Three days later, word came that the Herald had been sighted heading for the bridge, her entire party looking rather bedraggled. Solas went to the gate, not taking any chances against whatever awful thing Evun'ale had been able to think up during the ride home. 

As she rode across the bridge, he expertly grabbed the bridle of the horse as it passed and pulled himself up behind her, with a bit of magical aid. He was rewarded with a surprised yell.

He wrapped his arms around her back, grinning. "Welcome home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem is from Earthward by Robert Frost


	10. Stories We Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evun'ale takes the week off and she and Solas take full advantage of it to repair their relationship.

Evun'ale did not even really want to brief her advisors first, so loathe was she to leave Solas, but she did anyway, partly because he insisted. All of them were glad to see her back in Haven, and seeming so much more cheerful than when she had left. Still, Cullen and Leliana ordered her to take the week off. She practically skipped back to her cabin, where she found Solas waiting for her.

He had brought food and wine, and there was a fire in the hearth. They didn't say anything at first, he just held his arms open and she gratefully accepted the invitation, laying her head against his chest as she was wrapped in his embrace.

"I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt you," he said finally, stroking her hair.

"I know," she replied, looking up into his eyes. "I didn't expect it to hurt. It was a reasonable request, after all."

"Everything about you is unexpected," he said with a chuckle. "But my request was perhaps bit unreasonable, considering our previous activities." His ears grew red at the memory. Taking her hands, he led her to sit on the rug in front of the fireplace. "Come, let us eat and you can tell me what transpired in my absence."

********

Several hours later, Evun'ale was sitting in Solas' lap by the fire, her hair unbound, leaning against his chest. "So you read the book of poetry first? Interesting choice," he said.

"I suppose I was curious why you wanted me to read it. I was really torn between that and the Dalish fairy tales."

"And what is your opinion of the ancient poets?" he asked.

She turned and grinned. "Well, first I thought that if I had to read anything else about the majesty of Dumat, I would gag." She could feel the vibration of Solas' laughter in his chest. Then she looked up into his eyes, "Then I realized that you are clearly a closet romantic."

His smile was gentle. "I did say that I intended to court you." He touched her cheek with one finger, tracing the contour of her cheekbone almost reverently. "I wanted to show you that my feelings for you extended past the desires of the moment." His voice had gone lower, rougher. "It is difficult, when you are around, to behave as I should."

She grinned, a little wickedly. "Sometimes a little bad behavior can be good for you." Putting her arms around his neck, she pulled herself up to kiss him on the lips, gently and carefully. As much as she wanted him, she did not want to drive him away. But his lips were so soft, so inviting... she pulled away before she could get herself in trouble.

"And you are the expert on my well-being, I take it?" he said, his eyes stormy with his kindled desire. "Ane ina'lan'ehn, 'ma lath," he said, cupping her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. 

"There you go again, with the elvish. Its unfair!" she protested. 

He chuckled. "I would be happy to teach you Elvhen. It would be pleasant to be able to converse with someone else."

"What did you say a moment ago, then?" He pressed his lips together. "No keeping secrets."

He laughed at the ridiculousness of the statement. If she only knew the tally of his secrets, they would be here all night. "No secrets? Well, this one secret I will reveal. I said, 'You are so beautiful, my love.'"

Her breath caught in her throat. He loved her? She knew, somehow, that he would not say it if he didn't mean it. His gaze was intense. "I love you, Solas," she said, trying to pour all the depth of her feelings into the inadequate phrase, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I know," he replied, his voice full of a turbulent mix of emotions. He cleared his throat. "Shall I tell you a story?"

Evun'ale was slightly puzzled at the abrupt change in subject, but she nodded. She could listen to his silken voice forever. "The Dalish have little memory from the time when their gods walked among them. But it is said that long ago there was a war between the gods, which they named the Creators, and their enemies, those they called the Nameless, or 'The Forgotten Ones.'" His eyes closed, as if he struggled to remember the words.

"There was one among them, who was kin to the Creators, but his cunning also endeared him to the Forgotten Ones, and he was free to walk among both groups. This was Fen'harel, who they named the Dread Wolf. The tales say that he told both sides that he would arrange a truce; if the Creators would remain in heaven for a time and the Forgotten Ones would go back to the Void, he would negotiate the terms. And each side was led to believe that he would favor them." Solas's smile was grim.

"Or perhaps he told them of a great weapon that would end the war for good, but told each group a different location. That is unimportant. But all tales agree on what happened next. When the Creators were safely in their holy city, and the Forgotten Ones had returned to their terrible realm, Fen'harel trapped them both where they were, so they could no longer walk among the People. Without their gods, the elves quickly succumbed to the diseases of the mortal men. Their great cities fell and their lives dwindled, until their lifespan was no longer than that of a human. And it is said that Fen'harel retreated to the Fade, giggling to himself in his wickedness, and there he roams still, bringing nightmares to the People and waiting to devour the souls of the unwary." Solas laughed a little at that and then looked at Evun'ale. "Now, what do you think of that tale?"

She frowned. "I...feel like I have heard a different version of the tale..."

Solas raised his eyebrows. As he expected, she had not lost everything, and she was aware of his history. "What do you recall?"

Her brow furrowed, concentrating. "Fen'harel...he wanted to help them? The gods were cruel... they kept slaves. The war caused so much suffering. He did trick the gods and seal them away...but his intentions were good. He wanted the elves to be free."

Solas tried not to gasp. "But did the elves not suffer terribly because of his actions?"

"I don't think he intended that to happen. He didn't realize that they had been slaves too long. They didn't know how to take care of themselves anymore." She shrugged. "Maybe it wasn't a perfect solution. But no one can know all the consequences of their actions. What have I heard them say? If you try to be a hero, you may live to see yourself become the villain? Maybe someday stories will paint Corypheus as a misunderstood underdog," she said with a laugh.

Solas was thunderstruck. How could one so young have so much wisdom? "Once again, you surprise me. From my studies, I would say that your version is closer to the truth. Would you like to hear another tale of Fen'harel that I have heard in the Fade? This one I believe to be fairly unbiased."

She yawned widely, and slid down so that her head rested in his lap and smiled. "Sure," she said lazily.

He rubbed his thumb idly over her forehead and she closed her eyes. "When the world was young, there was no Veil. Spirits and mortals interacted freely, learning from each other. All of the People were gifted with magic and they did not sicken or grow old. They built wonders with their gifts. There was a spirit of Pride that lived among the People, and he wished to learn more of them, so he took the form of one of them...." Suddenly, he heard a snore. Evun'ale was asleep in his lap. With a gentle smile, he gathered her into his arms and laid her in the bed. He gazed down at her for a moment and then, sighing, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it away and climbed in next to her, pulling the blankets over both of them. 

*******

Evun'ale could not describe the joy she felt to wake and find his arms around her. Even before, when she had slept next to him in the tent, he was always gone when she awoke, taking the last watch of the night. But now her face was pressed against his bare chest, and she could hear the slow music of his heart in her ear. His eyes were shut tight, his face buried in her hair. She turned slowly and kissed him, and she could feel him smile against her mouth.

His kiss was more hungry than gentle and she dared to nip his lower lip in response. He made a noise like a growling hum in his throat and she laughed warmly as he pulled her shirt over her head. His fingers trailed gently over her ribcage as he left warms kisses on her neck and ear, and when his teeth grazed her earlobe, she couldn't help the gasping cry that escaped her lips.

But as he laughed at her reaction, she pushed him on to his back, straddling his hips with a mischievous grin and teasingly scratching her nails down his chest and stomach. In the cave, she had been too maddened with desire to really appreciate his body, but now, she let her eyes roam freely. Solas did not dress to show himself off, that was clear. He was lean and toned, with the body of a warrior rather than a scholar and as she ran he fingers over his abdomen, muscles fluttering at her touch, she wondered why he hid his strength.

"Did you find something interesting?" Solas asked roughly, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Mmmm....just admiring," she said huskily, unlacing his breeches slowly, teasing him with her fingers so that he groaned. She pulled the pants off, tossing them to the growing pile of clothing on the floor, and he, taking advantage of her momentary distraction, sat up and pulled her toward him, crushing her against his chest as he kissed her, his tongue exploring her mouth, his hands tangled in her hair. 

He twisted and pressed her into the bed with his kiss, unlacing her pants without looking. He slid them off, kissing down her body, grinning at her gasp when his tongue circled her nipple. She moaned, thinking she might go mad when she felt the warmth of his breath between her legs, but that was nothing compared to the desire that burned through her when his tongue flicked inside.

"Solas, please," she cried out.

"Isalan hima sa i'na," he said, almost growling with need as he entered her. Their fingers entwined as their hips moved together, at first slowly, both of them wanting to savor every sensation when they had all the time they needed. But as the pleasure rolled over them in waves, they could no longer hold back, crashing together as they reached their peak, crying out with ecstasy. Solas let out a stream of words in Elvhen that Evun'ale could not have possibly understood even if she were fluent.

Then he laid his head on her chest, panting as he listened to her heart racing. Her fingers strokes his cheek, trailing one over the point of his ear, and he shuddered, grabbing her hand. "Behave, you devilish woman," he said with a chuckle.

"You didn't seem to mind earlier," she replied playfully.

"I did not," he admitted. "But I am sensitive just now, and that tickles."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said with a grin. She gazed at him a while, content, and then she cleared her throat. "Are you sure you won't regret this later?"

Solas looked at her intently, his blue-gray eyes clear. "Evun'ale, despite my previous reservations, I have not regretted a moment spent with you. Only the moments spent without. You are the only thing I am truly sure of."

*******

The rest of the week proceeded similarly. They rarely emerged from the cabin, except to take walks around Haven, or to retrieve food or books. Solas taught Evun'ale some Elvhen, and read to her about history or culture. Every night, they met in the Fade and Solas taught her how to manipulate its energies. And he showed her memories, ancient memories of Arlathan, both the good and the bad. She felt like he was leading up to something, but she couldn't figure out what. Every morning she woke wrapped in his arms, and Solas no longer tried to restrain their interactions.

But he did start making tea, which he explained was to prevent pregnancy. "After all, this is not exactly a convenient time for us to bring a child into the world." 

He was right, of course, and Evun'ale was ashamed she hadn't thought to inquire about it before. But even more surprising to her was the look in his eyes when he said the words. As if he wished it was not so, as if he was imagining the way she would look with their child growing inside her. If she thought she could not possibly love him more, that moment proved her wrong.

Still, the week could not last forever, and they both were a bit restless to be back in the field. The Breach had not gone away, and both Evun'ale and Solas agreed that the first step would be to approach the mages in Redcliffe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isalan hima sa i'na: I need to become one with you.


	11. A Year In Crimson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting Blackwall and rescuing the mages in Redcliffe. Solas is tainted by red lyrium, and after thinking his love was dead, he reveals a bit of his secrets to save her life.

They stopped in the Hinterlands to investigate another rumor of the Gray Warden, and found him in a cottage by Lake Luthias, helping farmers fight off some bandits. Once the battle was over, Evun'ale approached the man. He was a typical warrior sort, tall, and beefy, with a luxurious beard. Evun'ale thought he seemed vaguely familiar...

"Are you Warden Blackwall?" she asked, trying to sound authoritative. 

"Who wants to know?" the man said suspiciously. Evun'ale frowned, wondering what reason a Gray Warden had to hide his identity. Maybe they weren't the first people to wonder why the Wardens had disappeared at the same time as the Conclave.

"We're from the Inquisition, investigating what happened at the Conclave. Did you know that since the explosion, the Wardens have all disappeared?"

"You think the Wardens killed the Divine? Maker's Breath! Why on earth would we want to murder Divine Justinia?" he asked, both dumbfounded and angry.

"I was hoping you could tell me. I don't want to think the Wardens had anything to do with it, but the timing is...."

"Suspicious. I understand," Blackwall said, frowning. "I don't know anything more than you do, unfortunately. If there were orders to retreat, I didn't receive them."

Evun'ale sighed. "We won't take up anymore of your time then." She turned to go.

"Wait." Blackwall called. "You said you're with the Inquisition? I saw what you've been doing, helping the refugees, closing the rifts. I became a Warden to protect people. If you'll have me, I'll be happy to aid you in your work."

Evun'ale couldn't deny that she was glad to have the Warden join them. As far as she was concerned, the more warriors they had to protect the mages, the better. And it meant that she wasn't stuck with Iron Bull when Cassandra needed a break. The Qunari was.... well, he was weird and intimidating.

They rode out to Redcliffe right after that. The town had barely started recovering from the Blight, and now was stuck in the middle of a war between mages and Templars. Evun'ale felt sorry for them. After giving the town's Healer a bunch of the herbs they had collected and convincing her to aid the refugees in the Crossroads, they went to the tavern.

Apparently, despite Fiona's invitation, no one was expecting them. And the scouts were saying something about a magister. Everyone looked at each other with raised eyebrows. This was not a good sign.

The magister was named Alexius, and he was the slimiest snake that Evun'ale had ever spoken to. He was clearly planning to do something unpleasant to and with the mages of southern Thedas. Grand Enchanter Fiona looked helpless and terrified. Just as Evun'ale was starting to get angry, a young man walked in, the magister's son, Felix.

He didn't look well, and Alexius fawned over him ridiculously. When Felix pretended to collapse so he could hand the Herald a note, Alexius practically ran out of the room to tend to him.

After he left, she showed the note to the others. "A trap? Not very subtle," Solas said with his eyebrows raised. 

"Why would he bother to stage a trap privately when he had us here already?" Evun'ale said with a frown.

"We cannot find out unless we investigate. If we are wary, we may turn the trap on the foolish hunters," Solas said with a feral grin. So after granting Inquisition protection to the Tranquil gathered in the inn, since apparently Alexius wanted nothing to do with them, the group headed to the Chantry.

And there was a rift there of course, spawning lots of demons. Parts of the rift seemed to make time slow or speed up. The rift in front of Redcliffe had done that too...not a comforting development. Evun'ale did not notice the handsome mage helping them until the rift was closed.

"Dorian, of the illustrious house of Pavus of Tevinter, at your service," he said with a flourishing bow. 

_He thinks highly of himself, doesn't he?_ Evun'ale thought. Dorian explained that he had once been Alexius' apprentice, and they had together developed the theory behind magical time travel, though they had never got it to work. Solas clearly disapproved of the idea.

Apparently, Alexius had recently figured out how to make the theory functional. He had used time travel to ensure that he arrived in Redcliffe before the Inquisition. And that was why the rifts in the area were behaving strangely.

Felix entered then, apologizing for not being quicker. Aleius had been fretting over him for nearly an hour. "Why are you helping us oppose your father?" Evun'ale asked him, confused.

"Ever since he joined that cult, the Venatori, he's been strange. Different. I love my father. I want to turn him away from this path. It's driving him mad."

Evun'ale considered a moment, and nodded. "We'd appreciate your help in freeing the mages and stopping Alexius," she said to Dorian. He agreed to meet them back at Haven.

"We should get back too," Cassandra said. "The others need to hear about this."

******

They arrived at Haven in the middle of the night. Evun'ale had started to nod off, and when the horse came to a sudden stop, she made a sound of protest as she wobbled dangerously in the saddle. Solas appeared at her side, easily pulling her into his arms.

"No, I need to umm...brief...the people....yeah," she protested drowsily.

Cassandra snorted from behind them. "I will take care of that, Solas. You can take her to bed."

Evun'ale began giggling madly. "I did not mean..." Cassandra said, blushing furiously. 

Solas shook his head and carried a still laughing Evun'ale away without saying a word.

The next morning, the Council was in an uproar. "Of all the people they could have asked for help, they chose Tevinter?" Cullen said, shaking his head.

"Alexius appeared out of nowhere, offering them help when they needed it. They felt backed into a corner," Evun'ale said testily.

"I have no doubt that Alexius manipulated the situation. For all we know, his agents have been stirring up anti-mage sentiments in Redcliffe for months," Leliana offered.

"I still think we should let them lie in the bed they made," the Commander replied testily.

"I'm not going to let Tevinter enslave nearly all the mages in southern Thedas," Evun'ale said firmly. "Plus, the time-travel magic is dangerous. Imagine how that could be used against us. We have to confront Alexius."

"The magister has kindly invited you to negotiations in the castle at Redcliffe. I suppose you want to accept his invitation?" Josephine said with a smile.

"That Keep is one of the most impregnable fortresses in Ferelden. Its too dangerous to send the Herald in alone," Cullen added.

"I'll take Solas, Dorian... and Cassandra with me," Evun'ale said thoughtfully. "Is there a way to sneak some other people in? Among the servants, maybe?"

"There is a secret passage, under the windmill. It is supposed to be an escape route for the Arl's family. I'll get my agents in," Leliana said, leaving to send the ravens right away.

"We'll head to Redcliffe tomorrow then, to give the agents a head start," Evun'ale said. She was confident about this plan, and yet, a strange feeling of foreboding had settled in her chest, which not even Solas' tender kisses could completely banish.

********

They entered the reception room in the castle, all of them breathing deeply to cover their nervousness.

"Cheery place, this," Dorian quipped. "Before I came here, I never realized how many different colors of gray there were. Nor how many ways it was possible to incorporate mabari into one's decor."

Evun'ale snorted, and she could see Solas suppressing a grin. Then a man entered, looking at them suspiciously. "The invitation was for the Herald alone," he said, rather pompously.

"Would you deny me my chief negotiators?" she asked innocently. The man narrowed his eyes and then nodded.

"Magister Alexius will see you now. Follow me." He led them through a set of double doors and into what seemed to be the throne room, for lack of a better word. Magister Alexius stood up on the dais, ominously illuminated by a roaring fire in the hearth behind him.

"Greetings, Herald. I'll admit surprise that you accepted my invitation," the magister said in his oily voice.

"I need mages to close the Breach. You've stolen them from right under my nose. So, let's negotiate," Evun'ale replied impatiently. She knew that Alexius didn't really want to help her, and she just wanted to call his bluff and get it over with. 

Grand Enchanter Fiona approached cautiously. "If a decision is to be made about our future, I have a right to be present."

Alexius nearly snarled with disdain. "You gave up your rights when your begged me for protection."

"If Fiona would like to participate in these talks, I will welcome her as a guest of the Inquisition." Fiona, Solas, and Dorian smiled gratefully at her.

"What could the Inquisition possibly have to offer me?" the magister drawled.

"We have information to trade. And you know, maybe if you help us, we won't throw you out of Redcliffe on your ass."

Alexius laughed. "You couldn't hope to oppose me," he said, indicating the Venatori agents all around the room who were closing around them. Then suddenly, Inquisition agents appeared as if from nowhere, cutting the throats or shooting the magister's lackeys. Alexius looked panicked.

"It's over, Alexius. Surrender now and we'll let you leave."

"No, I can't don't you see? The Elder One will kill me!" He brought a strange pendant out of his jacket, and something like a rift spun out of it.

"No!" she heard Dorian and Solas say in unison. Then everything went dark.

********

Suddenly she felt someone pulling her to her feet. She was cold and wet.

"Are you all right?" came the voice of Dorian from behind her. They appeared to be in a flooded jail cell. There were malevolent red crystals jutting out of the walls.

"I think so. But where are we?" she asked. "What happened to Alexius, the others?"

"I think the proper question is...when are we?" Dorian replied. "This still looks like the castle in Redcliffe."

"We travelled in time?" _What happened to the others? To Solas?_ "Can it be reversed?"

"In theory, if we could get a hold of Alexius's amulet and use it in the throne room, we should be able to go back to the moment we left."

"Okay. Let's go," Evun'ale said firmly, grabbing a key ring from a dead guard. _Who killed them? Dorian?_ She strode to the door and unlocked it.

"Notice, I did say in theory," Dorian clarified, following her.

"I know, but it's the only plan we've got." They traveled through the dungeons of Redcliffe Keep, fighting a guard here and there, but mostly finding more red crystals and dead bodies. Then, in one of the cells, they saw Enchanter Fiona, with crystals growing out of her. Her voice was strange and hollow, her eyes shot through with red light.

According to Fiona, they had only been gone a year. The Elder One, whoever he was, had conquered most of southern Thedas, killing Empress Celene, raising a demon army. Using red lyrium to corrupt both mages and Templars. And Alexius, living in terror of his master, barricaded himself in the throne room, his paranoia mounting by the day. 

"We have to go back! This is horrible!" Evun'ale said, nearly crying as they continued down the corridor.

"We will, I swear," Dorian said firmly, unexpectedly moved by the Inquisitor's sorrow. Not that he wan immune to to the plight of the people here. It was just that he didn't consider himself particularly sentimental. This was a practical problem with a practical solution, but this woman's heartfelt response made it seem more. "We will find a way."

They found Cassandra in another dungeon. "You came back to us," the Seeker said. She too, had been tainted by the red lyrium, and she looked thin and ill. "Then Andraste hasn't forgotten us after all." Her eyes practically glowed with desperate faith on top of the corruption within.

"I didn't come from Andraste," Evun'ale replied in an exasperated voice. "Alexius sent us forward in time. We have to find him so we can go back."

"Then you can stop all this from happening?" Cassandra said, frowning in thought, but clearly hopeful that this nightmare might come to an end.

"That's the plan," Dorian replied. They let Cassandra out of her cell, the Seeker grim and determined. Then they continued upward, toward Alexius.

When they found Cassandra in the cells, Evun'ale had a terrible feeling about what...and who else was imprisioned here. She did not want to see Solas like this, though she was even more afraid to find his body. She wanted to imagine that he had escaped, that he was somewhere else, fighting, but when they entered the next dungeon, after defeating a few guards, she knew. She could almost feel him.

"Solas!" she cried, running to him, grabbing his hands through the bars. Cassandra mercifully stayed back, holding a curious Dorian behind her with a gesture. 

"I saw you die!" he said, his eyes wide, his voice hollow and confused.

Evun'ale opened the cell, and threw her arms around her lover. "We didn't die. Alexius sent us into the future."

"Can it be reversed?" Solas asked, gripping her shoulders tightly. His skin was clammy and feverish, his eyes glowing with the power of the tainted lyrium.

"Dorian thinks so. We have to get the amulet from Alexius. But what about you? Are you all right?" Solas was much thinner than she remembered, having lost most of the muscles that she had been so surprised to find. He seemed fragile, at least physically, but if anything, his spirit burned all the brighter.

He looked down at her, brushing her cheek lightly with his thumb. "I am dying," he said simply. "But now that I know you are all right, I am feeling much better. We must stop Alexius. This future is an abomination, it cannot be allowed to come to pass." Evun'ale nodded, wiping away the tears that sprang to her eyes.

They traveled farther into the keep, and found signs of torture chambers that had been used recently. Very recently. In fact, they could hear what sounded like an interrogation session going on in the room next door. They charged in, only to see Leliana murdering her torturer right before their eyes.

The Spymaster did not look at all well. She looked like a skeleton wearing a tight skin suit, like she'd been aged 50 years. And she made clear, her voice filled with bitter anger, that she did not wish to speak with any of them about what had happened. 

The group traveled on, finding what looked like the Great Hall. And beyond it, a door with a strange magical lock. They could not get through. Dorian suggested that they look through the rest of the castle. Some of the servants had to be able to get in. After all, Alexius had to eat. So they searched, closing a few more strange rifts, fighting Venatori, finding more and more evidence of how horrible the world had become. Conor, the mage-born son of the old Arl, had killed himself rather than serve Alexius. The Elder One had set himself up as some sort of god, and had spread red lyrium throught Thedas, just as Fiona had warned.

The magister had been experimenting with the blight as well, trying to find a cure for his son, who had been infected after darkspawn attacked the caravan he was traveling in. Apparently, the time magic only worked from the moment the Breach was opened. He could not change events before that. Not only could he not save Felix from infection, he could not stop Evun'ale from obtaining the mark on her hand, as his master wanted. Alexius was getting desperate, the Elder One would come to kill him soon.

Finally, they had enough of the red lyrium shards to open the door to the throne room. Everyone prepared for the battle. Solas pulled Evun'ale aside.

He kissed her forehead, holding both her hands in his. "I want to thank you, for the love you have shown me. It has made my life so much more...hopeful, brighter. Without you I would not have appreciated the beauty this world had to offer."

"You don't have to thank me for that, Solas. I could hardly help it, after all. I loved you before we even met," she said, reaching up to stroke his face. If the plan worked, she would see him again in the past, he would remember nothing of this. And if it didn't, they would both surely die. No matter what, for him, in this time, this was goodbye.

"I know," he paused, swallowing. "If you do go back... tell him... tell me that you deserve to know the truth."

"What do you mean?" Evun'ale asked, frowning.

"There isn't time now. I was trying before... I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "We should go."

She nodded, and grasping his hand for the last time, she walked to the door, Cassandra, Dorian, and Leliana gathered behind her. When the shards were placed in the door, it lit up, and swung wide.

There was Alexius, and Felix. The magister's son was a bizarre shell of his former self.

"So, here you are. I knew you would come eventually." The magister looked old, defeated.

"Give us the amulet," Evun'ale said, her tone leaving no room for negotiation this time. She could see Leliana creeping up on the dais.

"Or what? Nothing you could do to me will compare to what the Elder One will do. And he is coming, for both of us."

Leliana grabbed Felix, pulling her blade to his throat. Alexius cried out in horror.

"Give it to us, and we'll spare your son," Evun'ale said fiercely.

"Yes, anything, please..." he started to say, but he never got the chance to surrender. Leliana cut the boy's throat with a grimace. 

"I want the world back," she hissed. Everyone gaped for a moment, and then the battle begun. It was quick and fierce, both sides desperate. Alexius threw rifts at them, spells, demons, the whole bit. But it was not enough. He crumpled to the ground with his son's name on his lips. Evun'ale felt sad at the waste, but she was so angry about what he had done, what he might do, that she could not feel much sympathy.

Dorian picked up the amulet. "It will take an hour or so to set up the ritual." A boom echoed on door of the keep, which splintered. 

"An hour?! I don't think we have that long," Evun'ale shouted frantically. 

"I'm going as fast as I can!" Dorian replied, activating the amulet. A clawed hand reached through the wreck of the door.

Solas and Leliana looked at each other. "We'll give you as much time as we can," the bard said fiercely.

"I don't want you to die for me," she shouted. What would happen if they died here? If Solas wasn't there when she returned...she didn't think she would be able to continue.

But he crushed her in an embrace, kissing her fiercely. "You have to go back, to stop this. I will be there waiting." He stepped back. "Ar lath 'ma vhenan. Melanada." The he glowed, expanded, his body changing. She stared in wonder and confusion, and suddenly, where Solas had been, a huge black wolf stood, with six red eyes. Evun'ale's hand went to her face involuntarily. 

Her markings...were of Solas? She was so confused, and she felt like her heart was going to break as the wolf bounded toward the door and the horde of demons now pouring through it. Cassandra charged into the fray and Leliana stood with her bow, reciting a prayer to the Maker as she fired arrow after arrow. 

But no matter how many they killed, more kept coming. Cassandra fell under a Pride demon's claws. Evun'ale felt the tears start to flow. The wolf, trailing fire as he went, leaped on enemy after enemy. But she saw a huge, spidery monster pick him up and toss him, his broken body falling to the flagstones. She had to almost physically restrain herself from running to him, sobs wracking her body.

Dorian grabbed her arm. "It's ready, we have to go." Leliana fell under a horde of demons. "Now!" Dorian shouted, yanking her elbow, dragging her through the portal.

And then, with a groan, Evun'ale found herself back in Redcliffe, facing a very surprised looking Alexius. Her eyes flicked behind her. There were Solas and Cassandra, healthy and whole. A flood of relief washed through her body, almost bringing her to her knees.

But she steeled herself and turned on Alexius with fury fueled by fear and loss. "Surrender, Alexius. You've lost." The magister looked like he might run, or attack, but was too afraid to make a decision.

Felix laid a hand on his father's shoulder. "Stop this nonsense, father. It's over."

"But Felix, you'll die," Alexius said, his voice breaking with grief. Evun'ale almost felt sorry for him, but the memory of Solas tainted with red lyrium, of his acceptance of his own death, burned through any sympathy she might have shown.

"Everyone dies," Felix replied, shrugging. "At least I lived the way I wanted." So, the Inquisition forces apprehended Alexius, and then King Alistair stomped in with his troops, his glare firmly fixed on Fiona. Evun'ale had to bite back a smart remark about how they could have used him a half hour ago.

"I wanted to help you, I really did. But now I hear you handed Redcliffe to Tevinter," the king said angrily. Fiona opened her mouth, but Alistair did not give her time to protest. "Under the circumstances, I can't shelter you anymore. You and all the mages must leave Redcliffe."

"But where will we go?" Fiona said, fear and desperation making her sound much younger than she was.

"The Inquisition still needs the mages to help close the Breach," Evun'ale offered.

"What are your terms?" Fiona asked. "Not that we are in any position to refuse."

"I would have you as my allies, Fiona. The mages will be free to serve the Inquisition as they are able, or leave and find their own way. As long as no one makes trouble, I will put no other restrictions on you." Solas and Dorian smiled, as did Fiona. 

So the mages of southern Thedas elected to join the Inquisition, and some of the more battle-minded of them traveled with Evun'ale and the others back to Haven immediately. Neither Evun'ale nor Dorian spoke much on the way back, and Solas was so concerned for her that he offered to let her ride with him. She gladly accepted, just to feel the reassuring comfort of his real, physical presence against her back.

When they finally reached Haven that evening, Dorian offered to give Cassandra and the other advisers a brief rundown of what had happened. Evun'ale accepted the reprieve he offered her gratefully, and she and Solas went to her cabin. She sat on her bed while he started a fire, intending to remove her boots, but ending up just sitting with her head in hands.

He sat beside her, his arm wrapped around her back. "Something terrible happened to you," he said gently. "If you can speak of it, I will listen."

Evun'ale leaned against him, burying her face in his chest, wanting to never let go. "We went to the future. A future where I wasn't there. The Elder One was destroying the world. And you...you died for me. You and Cassandra and Leliana, I watched you face down a horde of demons." She began sobbing again as she remembered the lifeless body of the black wolf.

Solas stroked her hair, pressing his cheek to the top of her head. "Shh..shh..I'm here my love, I will not leave you." Evun'ale let the tears flow. She had no idea how long they sat there, her shaking with remembered fear and grief, and he just holding her, humming a soft melody in her ear. 

Finally, her heart seemed to unclench, and the crying abated. She looked up at Solas. "You were tainted by red lyrium. It was everywhere. You said you were dying. And before we battled Alexius, you told me to tell you that I deserved the truth."

Solas made a noise that was somehow both a gasp and a sigh. "Did I say anything else of note?" he asked rather breathlessly.

"More Elvhen. I didn't understand it. And then you turned into a giant six eyed wolf to fight the demons. Just like the markings on my face." His eyes were wide, stunned and afraid. "Solas, what does that mean?"

"I..." he pressed his lips together, and rubbed his head. Finally he sighed, "It is a long story...."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ar lath 'ma vhenan. Melanada: I love you, my heart. Forever.


	12. The Big Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas reveals his history to Evun'ale. So yes, Tresspasser spoilers definitely.

"It will be easiest if I show you," he had said after a moment of thought. So they laid together in the bed, the warmth of their bodies touching a reassuring comfort to both of them, and Solas cast a sleep spell.

They were in the Fade. "I tried to start this story once before, but you fell asleep and I am afraid I lost my nerve," Solas said, his voice wavering. Evun'ale grabbed his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. This seemed to steady him and with a gesture, he bent the fabric of the Fade and an image began to form.

"The story begins long ago, in Arlathan," he said, as the city formed around him. It was breathtaking, spires of crystal and colored stone almost seeming to grow from the branches of the impossibly tall ironwood tree that housed it. The picture zoomed in dizzyingly until it focused itself on what appeared to be a sort of public garden, filled with a variety of exotic plants, some in neat ornamental beds, and some growing with wildly colorful abandon. There was a musical fountain in the center, and elves sat by it talking or reading. There was a musician playing a beautiful but completely unrecognizable instrument in the corner, and elsewhere there was some sort of performance. But the most surprising thing about the garden was the fact that there were spirits everywhere, bobbing among the elves watching, or speaking with them.

"When the world was new, there was no Veil. As you can see, spirits interacted freely with the living, both teaching them and learning from them." The vision seemed to center suddenly on one specific spirit, a tall, thin, thing of brilliant yellow-green light with what looked like six eyes of clear electric blue and a wavering crown.

"One spirit of Pride who lived among the Elvhen was intrigued enough by the People to wish to experience life more fully. It was easier back then for spirits to materialize from the Fade, and so the spirit made for himself a body like to one of the People."

The dream now showed a young elf, little more than a boy really, tall with chestnut hair. "I had no idea a spirit could make a body for itself like that," Evun'ale said, her voice full of wonder.

"It is certainly nearly impossible now, but in the days before the Veil, it was not terribly unusual," Solas said lightly.

"As you might imagine, Pride thought rather highly of himself, and being of moderate cleverness and magical prowess, he imagined himself the best in all the city, quickly catching the attention of the rich and powerful with his antics." The scene had changed, the boy was older, a young man, bowing at the feet of a fierce looking woman with a hawk on one arm and magnificent longbow on her back.

"He entered the service of Andruil, the greatest huntress in Arlathan, and for a time he worked with her hounds and falcons and flushed her game. It sounds like a menial task, but it was one of high esteem in those days."

"Wasn't Andruil the name of one of the Dalish gods?" They had been reading those Dalish fairy tales lately, and Evun'ale was sure she'd heard that name.

Solas grinned. She had noticed that he seemed to love it when she displayed her intelligence, and she wondered if it was simple pride or joy at having found a mind to rival his own.

"Yes, the Dalish worship her. But back then, she was simply a powerful member of the nobility."

"How did she become a god then?" Evun'ale asked, frowning. Though she had little interest in or opinion about theology, it seemed to her that a god was not something you became. It was something you just...were. A part of you like the color of your eyes. So the very idea was somewhat confusing.

"I am glad you asked. There was a war." The scene had changed to show bloody battlefields, troops clashing. "The spirit of Pride was now one of Andruil's lieutenants, considered cunning and ruthless. He was still young," Solas said sadly, dismissing the scene. Evun'ale was beginning to have a sort of suspicion where this was leading, though she could hardly believe it.

"After the war was won, the generals, seven at first, became respected elders, ruling the Elvhen from their Council in Arlathen. You know their names: Mythal, Elgar'nan, June, Sylaise, Falon'Din, Dirthamen, and Andruil. The Evanuris." The scene now showed seven beautiful thrones, each different, in an opulent crystal chamber.

"As the Evanuris grew in power, they grew in greed. They took slaves from among the poorest of the Elvhen. At first they treated them well. It was seen as a way for talented individuals to get opportunities that would have otherwise been beyond them. They served their Lord for a number of years and at the end, earned their freedom having received schooling or patronage in their craft." Evun'ale watched young elves enter the households of nobility. They did seem happy, well-cared for. But even she knew that it couldn't last.

"There was competition between the Evanuris. They had very little to occupy them after all, and they would often organize contests and wagers. It was not long before the talent of one's servants was just as important as the beauty of one's palace. After a few instances of slaves being kidnapped or killed, the vallaslin were developed. Ostensibly, they were simply for the purposes of identification, and were also quite decorative. It was seen as high praise to be worthy of the full mark of your Lord. As you have noticed, even the Dalish tattoos have differing levels of complexity." The scene showed young elves, grinning as they received their tattoos, showing them off to their friends. Some covered their whole faces, while some were just a few simple strokes.

"As you might guess, Pride was quite pleased to be the first to receive the full vallaslin of Andruil." The scene focused on the young man who had once been a spirit. He turned, and Evun'ale gasped, though she had half-suspected it already. It was Solas, much younger, with long brown hair pulled high on his head and crowned with a wolf skull. Emerald green vallaslin stood out against his skin, still fair, but darker than it was now from time spent in the sun.

She looked at Solas and he smiled grimly. "Solas means pride in Elvhen, after all. That has certainly been my greatest flaw."

"But... you must be thousands of years old. And..what happened to your vallaslin?" she asked, finding the idea difficult to process.

"I have lost count of my years. Certainly many, many, thousands. I took a body long before the fall of Arlathan, and the time spent as a spirit is difficult to measure. In any case, I removed my own vallaslin. It was many years later. The Evanuris had become even more powerful, and equally more corrupt. And I saw first hand what the vallaslin really were. Control. If a slave was behaving badly, their master could take control of them, their bodies, even their thoughts. It was subtle at first, but became more and more blatant as time passed. And Andruil and her wife Ghila'nain had become strange, unpredictable. They sacrificed slaves by the hundreds, all of them going to their deaths meekly as lambs." Evun'ale watched the elves, smiling beatifically as their lifeblood ran out onto the ground.

"It took me ages to develop the spell, especially because of the need for secrecy. But I was quite wealthy and powerful on my own by this time, the Master of Andruil's hunt, so I was able to use my influence to have a small realm of my own, far from the city. When the spell was complete, I tried it on myself first." The scene showed young Solas, his face bloody, but bare. "It needed a bit of refinement," he added with a chuckle. 

Evun'ale looked at him in awe, gingerly touching the scar above his eyebrow. "It was brave of you. To test it on yourself. It could have been much worse."

Solas smiled softly, his eyes full of hopeful surprise, placing his hand over her own for a moment. "I would not say that it was so much bravery as confidence in my own abilities. And not wanting to publicly make a fool of myself. Besides, I was told scars were quite dashing," he added wryly.

"But, once I was free of Andruil's mark, I began to free others. I started with the ones I knew to be most in danger. The young, the weak, anyone who would agree to have the marks removed. The Evanuris could not control their minds all of the time. Often I came to them in dreams. Once the vallaslin was gone, they would come to my fortress, the Sanctuary. From there, they could make their own way. At least that was what I intended, but to my my lasting dismay, many of them remained, wanting to serve me instead." He shook his head.

Scenes of Solas freeing the slaves, removing their vallaslin, flashed before their eyes. Hundreds, thousands of them. "As you might expect, I became quite unpopular. No one knew who I was at first, Andruil had never found out what had happened to the Master of her Hunt. She was hardly sane by then, and she no doubt assumed I had died. I wore a mask and cloak, even among my own people." The dreams switched to showing Solas wearing the pelt of a black wolf that covered nearly his whole face. "I had always had a kinship with wolves. Intelligent and practical creatures, and very loyal. So the rumor began to spread of Fen'harel. Not the Dread Wolf then, but the Rebel Wolf, who stole slaves away in their sleep. Despite my desires, I had nearly built an army of followers, and the Evanuris were afraid of what I might do. That was when Andruil caught me."

Now the scene changed again, showing Solas clearly magically bound, tied to a tree in a forest. Andruil, who was not looking at all well, was making lurid suggestions, punctuating each with a slice of her dagger in his chest. It almost brought tears to Evun'ale's eyes just watching "I escaped," Solas said, wincing at the memory, "but my cover was blown, so to speak, and I feared that I would have to run. Scatter my people and hope that the ire of the Evanuris would die down. But Mythal approached me. She had always treated her people well, and I had little reason to visit her lands. I think she only gave them her marks to protect them from the others. She agreed with my goals, and she wanted to help me reform Arlathan. We became friends." Mythal turned out to be a beautiful Elvhen woman with snow white hair and the wings and horns of a dragon. She seemed oddly familiar.

"But when the other Evanuris learned of her betrayal, they killed her." The body of Mythal laid on the floor of the throne room, her blood pooling underneath her.

"I was furious. And so, I developed a way to free the People from the Evanuris forever." Now, young Solas stood in a tower at the top of a mountain. His hands grasped a carved golden orb. There was an explosion of green light, she could see him screaming with pain, and then there was nothing. 

"I created the Veil, trapping the Evanuris behind it forever. And then, my power completely exhausted, I slept through the ages, wandering the Fade. Imagine my surprise when, upon awakening, not only was Fen'harel the monster the Dalish use to terrify their children, but the People had lost everything. Not only their history, their culture, and their home, but their very lives. The Elvhen were once immortal, but it was a gift tied to the magic of the Fade. Once the Fade was no longer accessible, the lives of the elves dwindled until they were no longer-lived than the humans we once derided as shemlen. The quicklings."

He sighed. "So now you know. I am Fen'harel. As for the marks on your face, I did not put them there. I never had a vallaslin. But it is certainly me, as you guessed. I can only think that it was intended as a message."

Evun'ale touched her face, more reflex than anything. There was nothing to feel. "Message for who?"

"For me, I presume. Whoever sent you here wanted to make sure I would not ignore you. As if I could."

A flash of a memory seemed to pass through her mind, and to her surprise, then formed an image in the Fade. "He'll be quite interested you now," said the woman with the red armor and the hair bound into a horned crown. She was smiling. "You'll do. It is time to go. Good luck, da'len, You'll need it where you're going."

Both Solas and Evun'ale gasped. "That's the woman who sent me here!"

"It is Mythal. As I suspected," he said with a tone of reverent awe.

"Why do you think Mythal wanted me to come here?" Evun'ale asked. Maybe Solas knew more about her purpose, since she didn't seem to remember it.

"I am not sure. But let us discuss it more when we are awake," he said gently.

*******

When they opened their eyes, it was mid-morning. The explanation of Fen'harel's history had taken all night. Solas was hesitant, still unsure of how Evun'ale would feel now that she knew the truth of his identity. She turned toward him, her eyes wide. "I can still hardly believe it. You saw Arlathan, lived there. It's like...I don't even know. Like it turns out Merlin was my next-door neighbor or something."

"Who is Merlin?" Solas asked, frowning.

Evun'ale laughed. "Oh, never mind that. I just meant I never thought I'd have a legendary elven deity in my bed. You cradle-robber," she teased, shoving him playfully.

Solas laughed at her unexpected reaction, a warm feeling of relief flooding over him. "I was sure you would be furious with me. Or hurt. Or afraid."

"No," she said simply, putting her arms around his neck. "I love you, all of you. Besides, I'm pretty sure if you told me before I wouldn't have believed it. Or understood it at all." She looked down, suddenly self-conscious. "I guess I can hardly believe that after everything you have seen and done, you would be content with someone like me. You know, a boring ordinary mortal."

He pulled her close then, burying his face in her hair. "Ar lath 'ma vhenan. You are anything but ordinary."

"That's what you said...in Redcliffe. In the future. Only there was also something about melons..." Evun'ale said, frowning as she tried to remember.

Solas had to screw up his face so that he wouldn't laugh, as this was a somewhat serious moment. "Melanada?" he managed to say.

"Yes, that. What does that mean?" she asked, curiosity lighting up her eyes.

"It means, I love you, my heart. Forever," he said, his voice hoarse with the depth of his emotions.

Evuna'sle kissed him fiercely, her mind trying to piece together the limited amount of Elvhen she had learned. Finally, she smiled. "Ar lath 'ma, Solas."

********

The war council that day was tense. Cullen was sure there were going to be abominations popping up under every rock, not being thrilled that Evun'ale had given the mages equal status with the rest of the Inquisition's forces. However, Leliana was thinking tactically. 

"One good thing about all of this is that we now know what this Elder One plans. Assassinating Empress Celene, and raising a demon army. I will get my agents into Orlais right away," the Spymaster said. Evun'ale had trouble looking at her without remember the skull-like visage of future Leliana.

"I will inquire with the nobility. But with the Civil War in Orlais making things chaotic, it will be more difficult to see which threats are coming from where," Josephine said, her quill flying as she planned.

"Once the mages are all settled, we'll be ready to try to close the Breach. I'm hoping that will be by the end of the week," Evun'ale said. "Then, we'll go after this Elder One."

She spoke with the other members of the Inner Circle as well. Blackwall seemed like a good guy, if a bit brusque. He didn't have much to say about the Gray Wardens or himself, but she chalked it up to a taciturn personality. Dorian was not really enjoying his time in the South so far. It was much warmer in Tevinter after all. And the downfall of his mentor hadn't been easy on him. Evun'ale brought him a new cloak, which made him smile. Vivienne had nothing nice to say, as usual. 

Varric knew more than a bit about red lyrium and he was horrified by what they'd discovered in Redcliffe. He described how his brother and he had discovered the stuff. It didn't sound great and she agreed to help him get rid of the stuff, shivering with the memory of the red light shining from Solas's eyes. Iron Bull and Sera spent a lot of time at the tavern. Sera was focused on closing the Breach, getting things back to normal, so she could disrupt the lives of the nobility in peace. Cassandra continued to question the wisdom of her decisions and Evun'ale did her best to reassure the Seeker. Even though they hadn't trusted each other at first, mutual respect had grown quickly into friendship. 

Evun'ale stopped to once more reassure Cullen that the mages wouldn't blow up Haven, and then she convinced Leliana to spare a traitor among her agents. She went to the smith and ordered a few new pieces. Then, duties discharged, she went to find Solas. He was in the library, reading. She crept up on him quietly, holding her hands in front of his eyes.

"I do not think you have thought this through. I only know one person who has a hand that glows," he said wryly, turning the chair around and pulling her into his lap.

"Hmmm. I suppose I'll have to work harder to trick the trickster," she said, happily burrowing herself into his arms.

"Indeed,' he said with a grin. "I was wondering if you would like to take a trip with me. Since we are waiting for the mages to be ready to close the Breach, I thought I might go investigate some nearby ruins. It will only take a day or two."

"Sounds like fun. As long as its warmer. I'm already tired of snow and Cassandra told me that we've got at least another month more," Evun'ale said with a grown.

"Luckily, it is already months into springtime in this part of the Brecilian forest. I believe you will like it there."

"Great. When do we leave?"


	13. A Day of Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas and Evun'ale leave Haven together to check out some nearby ruins. Romance ensuess, plus a discovery or two.

Though there were a few matters that needed attended to, the advisors had agreed that it could wait until after the Breach was sealed. Everyone knew that Redcliffe had been terrible for Evun'ale and Dorian, but especially for the Herald. A few days away from Haven would do no harm. 

They rode out just as the sun touched the morning clouds with rosy fingers. A surefooted hart carried them both easily, and so Evun'ale had the pleasure of leaning against Solas's chest with his arms around her. The warmth of his body and the familiar smell of woodsmoke, fur, and herbs was almost enough to send her back to sleep. She had never been a morning person.

Solas noticed her fatigue. He pulled a cloak out of the saddlebag and wrapped it around the both of them. "Sleep, vhenan, I will keep you safe." he said quietly, and with the steady rocking of the hart's prancing gait, she slipped into slumber.

"We are here," a soft voice said, what seemed like mere moments later. Slender calloused fingers brushed her cheek and she opened her eyes and gasped. A graceful stone archway covered with vines stood before them, and beyond, a beautiful cluster of Elvhen buildings, nearly intact.

"This is amazing. How did you find it?" Evun'ale said as she dismounted. "Are you sure it's safe? Half the time these places seen to be infested with undead and giant spiders."

"There have always been rumors of intact ruins deep in this forest, but I had to travel the Fade to find the exact location. As for safety, I am fairly confident that the ancient wards in this area still hold, which should keep out most intruders. Of course, we should be wary," he admitted. "I believe the two of us will be sufficient to repel most attacks."

They led the hart up to the archway, where a faint shimmer of power glowed like a spiderweb covered in dewdrops. Evun'ale could feel Solas gently probing it with his magic. "As I suspected, the wards are intact, and very old. But I believe I can persuade them to let us through without having to break them." He probed it further, his brow furrowing in concentration, and then he began to sing. The song was a complex melody of lyrical Elvhen, the words flowing together indistinguishably. And in the archway, an intricate magical symbol took shape in response to the song, drawing itself in glowing light. It was so beautiful, Solas' lilting voice coaxing breathtaking forms from the magic. Evun'ale could have stood there for hours, but the song faded away and the barrier seemed to part like curtain before them. Solas took her elbow, dragging her from the trance his magic had caused.

"Come, let us see what we may find," he said with a smile. They passed under the archway and Evun'ale could actually feel the wards folding back together behind them. The ruins were silent but for the sounds of wind and birdsong. "All seems quiet."

"That usually means we're about to be murdered by assassins or something," Evun'ale offered.

"Yes, usually," Solas replied, laughing. But a cursory examination of the first building found it totally unoccupied. It seemed to be a sort of guest house, and they decided to make a camp there, as it was already evening. The next day, they went out to explore the rest of the ruins. There were beautiful murals and mosaics on many of the walls. Evun'ale brushed the vines aside of one particularly large piece and gasped. In the center was a picture of Solas, as he looked in the time of Arlathan, long hair, wolf crown, and a self-satisfied grin. His hands held the orb she had seen him use to make the Veil. Behind him, the other Evanuris looked on from their prisons, furious and sorrowful. In the bottom of the foreground, elves either wept over the body of Mythal or celebrated their freedom.

"Solas, did you paint this?" She seemed to remember that he painted, although now she couldn't remember ever seeing him do such a thing. He strode over, frowning.

"I cannot have done. I am sure I have never been to this place. Also, I do not think I would have painted myself in such a flattering light," he said, touching the mural gingerly with a finger.

"True," Evun'ale said chuckling. "It was obviously painted by someone who knew you, after the Veil was raised. Perhaps some of your followers came here and built a home."

"You may be right. The architecture here is strange as well. A mix of Elvhen and human styles, as if it was built by both cultures together. That is something no historian would believe. Perhaps we can discover more about them further in." But there wasn't much else to be found. No books, very little in the way of solid goods, and plenty of signs of battle.

"What do you think happened here?" Evun'ale asked as they walked back to the guest house hand in hand.

"If I had to guess, without memories in the Fade to guide me, it seems that this was a sanctuary of sorts for my people after the Veil fell. With what little clues are left, we know that there was a battle. I wonder if it wasn't a purposeful eradication by followers of the Evanuris," he said sadly.

"Do you think they were trying to obscure the truth? And that's why we didn't find any books?" Evun'ale guessed. "But why would they have warded it, rather than just destroying it?"

"That is an excellent question. Perhaps there was a battle, but the forces of Fen'harel were victorious. However, having been discovered and badly weakened, they moved to somewhere safer afterward. Maybe they even intended to return, which was why they warded it so strongly," Solas said, his brow furrowed. 

"If we search the Fade, we might even figure out where they went." Evun'ale eyes practically glowed with excitement, and Solas smiled despite himself.

"I hope so. But first, exploring this ruin was not even the primary reason I brought you here, though it proved much more fruitful than I imagined. Come this way." Solas led her by hand behind the guesthouse and into an area that had been concealed by undergrowth. Solas pushed a tangle of vines and ferns out of the way, and Evun'ale gasped.

It was the kind of place that was only supposed to exist in your imagination. A small waterfall spilled into a clear pool lined with colorful pebbles. Trees trailed long branches into the water at the edges of the pool, and it was ringed with beautiful flowers. There was a gracefully carved stone bench that Solas led her to sit on beside him.

"You brought me all the way here to show me a waterfall?" she said, smiling gently and leaning against his shoulder. "You're more of a romantic than I thought."

Solas chuckled. "Not exactly. I wanted to come here for my own research, but when I saw how beautiful it was, I knew that you would enjoy seeing it. And, I confess, I wanted to have you to myself for a time. The Inquisition makes many demands upon you, and I fear it will only become worse in the future."

"Not that I'm not thrilled to spend time with you. But after the Breach is sealed, you wouldn't think I would be especially needed."

"Things are rarely that simple. Besides, we know that the one behind this, The Elder One, is still at large. If his initial plan fails, I do not doubt he will try again. He will wish to punish the Inquisition, and you especially, for interfering. Even if you wished to escape the role that your power has given you, I doubt you would be able to," he said, sighing.

"You're probably right. Since I imagine you're speaking from experience," she said as she looked up into his eyes.

"Yes, I was never very successful at evading my responsibilities," he agreed. "Speaking of which, there is one thing that I wanted to ask you."

"Which is?" Evun'ale asked with raised eyebrows. She had a feeling that they were getting to the real reason that he had brought her all the way out here, and since she sincerely doubted that this was a marriage proposal it had to be something fairly important.

"You remember how I freed the slaves by removing their vallaslin?" he said carefully. She nodded. "I could remove yours as well, if you would like."

"But aren't they yours? I don't mind having them; I have to say I'm not terribly afraid that you're going to enslave me." Then she grinned teasingly. "Unless you're into that sort of thing."

"No," he said, his ears reddening slightly. "I do not intend to use the marks in any way. Nor am I sure that it would work, even if I did." He brushed his fingers lightly over the vallaslin, tracing a line over her eyebrows and down her nose. "But I would not have you wear any slave marks, functional or not. It does you a disservice, to both your face and your spirit. My more pressing concern, however, is that wearing the sign of Fen'harel so openly might give you difficulty should you have to interact with the Dalish."

"Oh, that is a good point. The Dalish don't seem to like Fen'harel very much." The Dalish fairy tales were not very complimentary regarding the Lord of Tricksters.

"No. They are already suspicious of outsiders. If you came to them wearing the visage of the Dread Wolf, I fear they might shoot you on sight. And then I would probably do something regrettable," he said with a grimace.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" she said teasingly. "I suppose I'll let you remove them, as long as you promise I won't end up screaming and covered in blood."

Solas raised his eyebrows in mock affront. "I assure you that the spell is completely safe. I have been perfecting it for centuries, after all. Just be still for a moment." He held his hands above her face, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. Green light flowed from his fingers. "Ar lasa mala revas," he said softly as he passed his hands over her eyes and forehead, finally resting them on her shoulders. "I had not thought it possible, but you are even more beautiful without the vallaslin."

"Sweet talker," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Then she sneezed. "Argh. We are both covered in dust. How come every time I hang out with you I end up getting dirty?" He smiled crookedly. "No, don't answer that," she amended, making an exasperated face.

"Perhaps we should take advantage of the water," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh, I see now," Evun'ale replied, grinning. "I should have known that you had motives other than historical research."

"I do not know what you are referring to. I was merely making a suggestion that we might clean the dust from ourselves," he said, all too innocently.

"Hmmph. I don't believe that for a second. But it is a good idea." She shed her tunic and vest quickly, draping them over the bench. But Solas hadn't moved, he just sat there watching with an intense expression. Evun'ale approached him, smiling, pulling him to his feet. "Do you need help getting undressed, or were you going to bathe with your clothes on?"

"I apologize, but I was dazzled by the sight of a gorgeous woman," he said, pulling her against him, his voice rough. "However, if you would be willing to assist me, I would not object."

"Solas, I don't think I will ever be _unwilling_ to help you out of your clothes," she purred, sliding her hands under his tunic as he removed his belt and pendant. She never tired of feeling his smooth skin underneath her fingers, the lean muscles flexing as she pushed all of the bothersome fabric over his head. He tossed it aside, not even bothering to make sure that it didn't land in the dirt.

Their lips met in a bruising kiss, and then they could hardly get the rest of their clothes off quickly enough. Solas picked her up and carried her into the water as she shrieked in protest. But to her surprise the water was warm.

"Did you think I was going to drown you?" he asked, laughing, as she laid her head against his chest.

"No, I thought the water was going to be cold," she said, kissing the indent of his collarbone. "I was anticipating freezing." He opened his mouth, no doubt to inform her about the magical origins of the hot water, but she trailed her fingers lightly over the edges of both of his ears, from lobe to tip, and he shivered, words forgotten. His fingers wove themselves into her hair as their lips met again, softly this time, savoring each other, tasting and teasing with tongues. 

Evun'ale danced her fingers over the muscles of his shoulders and back, sliding over his narrow hips and down, grasping his fullness in her fingers so that he groaned. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he entered her, both of them sighing with pleasure at the completeness of their union. They moved, slowly and deliberately, trying to prolong each sensation, to drive the peak higher. When Evun'ale finally reached her climax, her whole body shuddering as she cried out, waves of pleasure seeming to roll over and over her in a never-ending series, she heard Solas calling her name too, and she could feel him spasming inside her, his muscles trembling as his fingers flexed around her hips. 

They managed barely to keep their heads above water, collapsing in boneless exhaustion on the shore. Eventually, they recovered enough to actually swim, and as the moon rose and lit the water silver, they made love again under the waterfall before running shivering back to their camp to wrap themselves in blankets, their clothes now hanging on the tree branches, wet, but clean.

That night, they met in the Fade, both eager to find any memories that might give them clues to who had built the ruin, and where they had gone. The builders had come to the Brecilian forest before the Veil had fallen, one of the few groups to actually take the opportunity to build a new life rather than stay in the Sanctuary while Fen'harel was still there to guard it. After the Veil was raised, they took in more refugees.

They traded freely with humans, and some even intermarried. It was perhaps a few hundred years of peace before the others discovered them. Elves with bright red vallaslin. The raid was quick and brutal. As Solas had surmised, his people had won, but the cost had been terrible. As to where they were going, all that they could tell from the memories is that there had been another village of Fen'Harel's people far to the east, and they intended to try and find them.

They woke late the next morning, and took their time about getting ready to go. "Are you sure we have to go back?" Evun'ale said as she rolled up the pile of pelts that had served as their bed. "Staying here would be so much more relaxing. We'll just build up the wards, wait for Corypheus to blow himself up by accident, and then repopulate the world with little Fen'harels." Her eyes were sparkling with mischief.

Solas laughed out loud. "As enjoyable as that sounds, I doubt we would like living in such a world for very long. Besides, you will never get to complete your plans for setting up Cassandra and Varric that way."

"Drat. You're right. Goodness knows Varric won't quit making out with Bianca unless I force him." They mounted the hart again, and rode out under the archway, both of them giving the place one last fond look before turning toward Haven.

"Repopulate the whole world? That is terribly ambitious," Solas said into her ear as they got back on the road.

"Well, I plan on living forever, so I can keep you out of trouble. I figured that was an inevitable eventuality," Evun'ale replied glibly, resting her head against Solas's chest and looking up at him with a smile.

His gaze was thoughtful. "I certainly hope you succeed. I can hardly imagine what I would do without you."

She stayed awake on the trip back, enjoying talking with him about magic, about things he had seen and done, and even, hesitantly, about things they might do in the future. They arrived back at Haven late in the night, to Cassandra's visible relief. 

"Most of the mages powerful enough to help us have arrived," she said. "They are as eager as we are to see the Breach sealed."

"Tomorrow is a bit last minute for such a big undertaking," Evun'ale said thoughtfully. "But the day after, let's plan for that."

The Seeker nodded, satisfied. "I will inform the others. You will lead the mages, Solas?"

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing that it was a revealing gesture of trust from Cassandra, who did not approve of his lack of Circle training. "Of course, if everyone is in agreement."

Cassandra almost looked relieved. "Of all the mages here, I trust your expertise, and your motives, the most. At the very least, I know that you will not allow harm to come to the Herald if it can be prevented," she said, her eyes straying to their tightly clasped hands with a small smile. 

Solas blushed. "Everything's going to be fine, Cassandra," Evun'ale said, patting the Seeker's shoulder. "We've already done this once before, remember. And this time we'll have more help. Also, hopefully there won't be an angry Pride demon waiting for us."

Cassandra chuckled. "You are right, of course. I am borrowing trouble. You two go to bed, I'll tell the Commander to prepare the troops."

As she and Solas walked back to her cabin, Evun'ale had a strange feeling of unease. She hadn't lied to Cassandra. Sealing the Breach should be fairly uncomplicated. But every time she thought about it, she felt an unreasonable sense of dread.

"Is something wrong, vhenan?" Solas asked as they laid down together.

"No.. I don't know. Just nervous, I guess." He wrapped his arms around her and hummed a song into her ear, and she fell asleep, fears forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ar lasa mala revas: I give you freedom
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry this took a while, but i was a little stuck on my other fic and had a bunch of junk to do over the weekend as well. Thank you to everyone who's been leaving comments and kudos. You have no idea how it makes my day. Enjoy!


	14. Elder Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out crazy long, but it covers sealing the Breach and the attack on Haven.

They were back at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, which was still hauntingly creepy, the crystals of red lyrium pulsing angrily while ashes swirled in the winter winds. The Inquisition scouts had gone ahead of them, but had found the place abandoned, as expected. Evun'ale looked up at the Breach, rocks spiraling into the heavens. Her stomach churned.

"Just close it as you always have done, my heart. The mages and I will support you," Solas said, gripping her hand.

"Right," she said, taking a deep breath. She turned and kissed Solas before he could back away, knowing he didn't much care for public affection. But, to her surprise, he wrapped his arms around her. "Ar lath 'ma, Solas. No matter what," she said quietly and his his arms tightened around her.

"Ar lath 'ma, Evun'ale," he said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Do not be afraid. I will be right behind you."

They parted reluctantly, and Solas paced back to the mages as Evun'ale squared her shoulders and raised her hand to the Breach. Green lightning arced from her hand, familiar pain lancing down her arm. 

"Focus on the Herald. Let your power flow through her!" she heard Solas shouting from behind her. Power slammed into her, making her feel like she was on fire, and not in a good way. It was a struggle channeling the magic, like trying to ride on a dragon's back, but she gritted her teeth and held on, forcing the burning stream through the mark on her hand, until she felt she might pass out from the pain. And then, it was over.

Evun'ale collapsed to her knees, feeling like her insides had been scooped out. A hand rested on her shoulder. "Did I do it?" she gasped.

"Yes, vhenan. The Breach is sealed," Solas said gently. She fell forward onto her face.

Later, who knew how long, she awoke to the familiar feeling of rocking. Solas was cradling her in his arms as the hart followed a caravan of troops through a mountain pass. "Wazgoinon?" 

'We are riding back to Haven, to celebrate your victory," he said, smiling down at her. "We will be there soon. Would you like to sit up?"

"Yeah, guess I'd better look the part of the conquering hero," she said, and he helped her right herself on the hart just before they got to the bridge over the pass. People were lining the road, cheering, and Evun'ale waved at them sheepishly.

In the town, people were already drinking and dancing. Josephine crushed her in a hug as soon as she dismounted. "You did it! I was so worried. Not that I thought you couldn't do it, I mean," the Ambassador added, blushing. 

"It's okay, Josie. I was worried too," she admitted, shaking Cullen's hand awkwardly, as the Commander looked like he wanted a hug as well but was afraid Solas might murder him. 

"Congratulations, Herald," Leliana said, smiling. "I wonder what the Chantry will think about this?"

"I hope they'll stop denouncing me, at the very least." Evun'ale said, as she accepted congratulations from the rest of the group.

"Nice job, Boss," Iron Bull said, pull her under his arm and rubbing her head.

"Ow, ow, geez Bull," she said, breaking away.

"Yeah. Now the sky is stitched up, maybe things'll go back to normal and I can ruin some rich tits' day," said Sera. 

Finally, she managed to break away from all her well-wishers, and found Solas standing to the side of a group of dancing villagers. He looked tired, but he smiled as she approached, putting her arm around his waist.

"So, the hole in the sky is closed. Are you going to ride off into the sunset?" she teased him as he handed her a glass of wine.

He chuckled. "I did suggest that, previously. But you should know that I could not bear to leave you for a moment." He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and turned to place a kiss on her forehead. "We shall have to ride off into the sunset together. But I suspect we have more work to do before we can do as we please."

"You're probably right," Evun'ale started to say. And then a horn sounded and people began shouting. "What the heck?"

"Look at the pass," Solas said, his voice wavering a bit. The mountainside was flickering with torchlight.

"Shit."

"Indeed," Solas said with a grimace.

"To arms! A force approaches!" Commander Cullen shouted, running up to them.

"Under what banner?" Josephine asked, no doubt already formulating several strongly worded letters.

"None," Cullen replied. They all stared at the army approaching Haven for a moment. To Evun'ale, this was somehow horribly familiar. A banging on the gate broke them all from their trance.

They ran down, not sure if it was friend or foe. "Let me in! I can't come in if you don't open!" said the voice of a boy.

Evun'ale pulled opened the gate over Cullen's protests, revealing a skinny young man with a comically large hat, who had just murdered a Venatori before their eyes. Solas gasped behind her, though she didn't have time to ask why. "My name is Cole, I came to warn you. Templars are coming to kill you."

"Templars? Is this their response to our alliance with the mages?" Cullen was clearly offended by the behavior of his former colleagues.

"The Templars went to the Elder One. You took his mages. He is very angry that you took his mages," Cole said, shivering.

"He?" Evun'ale asked him.

"The Elder One," Cole replied, pointing. As they watched, a monstrous creature of rotting skin and red lyrium, a cloak of raven feathers on his back.

"He's the one from the Temple," Evun'ale whispered. Then she shook her head to clear it. "We need to evacuate the non-combatants. Get them to the chantry," she said to Leliana and Josephine. 

"We'll hold the gate," Cullen said, ushering the soldiers and battlemages forward with his sword. "Haven is no fortress. If we have any chance of defeating this monster, we have to give it everything we have." He indicated the trebuchets lining the edges of the town.

Evun'ale nodded, grabbing Solas, Cassandra, and Varric and running down to the outer ring. The sappers manning the trebuchets were fighting off a group of red Templars, and they shouted with joy when the Herald came to aid them. The trebuchet buried half of the templar forces with snow, and everyone cheered, but Evun'ale and Solas glanced at each other. That had been way too easy. It wasn't over.

As if in answer to their unspoken doubts, an unholy shriek split the air and the trebuchet beside them exploded. "What the hell is that?" Evun'ale shouted at something that looked like a dragon flew by. 

"It looks like a freaking Archdemon!" Varric shouted, already backing up toward Haven.

"Let's get back to the Chantry," Evun'ale said, grabbing Solas by the elbow, as he had been standing in stunned silence.

They ran inside, follow by Cole, who was supporting Chancellor Roderick. Evun'ale tried not to feel a satisfaction at seeing the Chancellor brought low. Especially when Cole announced that the man was dying. He might be a prick, but he didn't deserve to die in agony.

"What do we do?" she asked Cullen, trying to breathe through her mounting panic.

"Not even the Chantry can hold against that...thing," the Commander said fiercely. "The only thing that even slowed them down was the avalanche. If we let all the trebuchets go at once, trying to trigger another slide..." 

"You would bury Haven?" she asked, a bit shocked.

"We're dying anyway, Herald. At least we can choose how we go out. Not everyone has that choice."

Evun'ale bit her lip. There had to be a better way. It wasn't in her nature just to give up.

"Yes, that would work," Cole said suddenly. "Chancellor Roderick wants to help. He wants to say it before he dies," the young man said from under his wide-brimmed hat. It wasn't the right time to wonder how he read the lay cleric's mind..

It turned out that there was a path out of Haven. An old trail for pilgrims that the Chancellor had discovered by chance. The people of Haven could be saved, while Evun'ale distracted the Elder One and his pet dragon. He only wanted her, after all.

"I'm not going to lie to you. This is not even remotely survivable," Cullen said. Evun'ale and Solas glanced at each other, both of them nodding subtly. If they were going to die, they would do it together. 

"If it will save the people of Haven, it's worth it." 

********

Of course, Cassandra and Varric insisted on coming along too. They ran through Haven, helping the villagers escape to the Chantry as they went. Finally, all of the survivors had fled, and they were at the trebuchet. Waves of red Templars assaulted them as they tried to get the dratted thing aimed. But finally it was ready.

Unfortunately, their enemy had impeccable timing. The horrible corpse dragon careened into view, landing right between Evun'ale and her friends. She could hear Solas shouting, but she could not afford to focus on her lover because the Elder One, his gaze burning with corrupted power, was bearing down on her with a look that could fell a bronto.

"Face me, pretender! You meddle in things beyond your ken," he said, reaching for her with a clawed hand.

"What are you?" she asked, her face a mask of disgust and fear. "Why are you doing this?"

"Just like a mortal, to beg for answers. I am beyond your understanding. Bow to the will that is Corypheus." He certainly had a flare for the dramatic. Evun'ale stared at him, waiting. Her knees were shaking but it seemed important that she not show her weakness. The shock made her numb enough to pretend bravery she did not feel. "You will kneel," he said, his tones so deep that they vibrated through her feet.

She did not. "What the hell do you even want?!" she shouted at the nightmare creature.

"I have come for the Anchor. The process of removing it begins now." In his hand was now a familiar metal orb, red magic pulsing and flickering around it. She might have gasped in recognition, had pain not just flared along her left arm as Corypheus attempted to remove the mark from her hand. Instead, she held her hand to her chest as the mark flared to life, green veins of lightning spiraling over her skin. 

"It is your fault, Herald. You interrupted a ritual years in the making. The thing that marks you as blessed, that you flail at the rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens." More of the sickly red magic flickered in Corypheus's claw-like hand, and Evun'ale cried out in pain, falling to her knees.

"What is thing meant to do?" she said, pushing herself up just in time for Corypheus to grab her wrist, dangling her in the air. 

"I once breached the Fade in the name of another, to serve the Old Gods in person. But I found nothing but chaos and corruption. For a thousand years I wondered what I had done wrong. But no more. I have gathered the will to enter the Black City under no name but my own. To champion withered Tevinter and correct this Blighted world. Beg that I succeed," he said, his face inches from her own. "For I have seen the throne of the gods, and it was empty!" Corypheus threw her aside, and she landed against the trebuchet with a grunt. The trebuchet... "The Anchor is permanent," the monster was saying. "You have spoilt it with your fumbling."

 _Keep talking, buddy,_ Evun'ale thought, grabbing a discarded sword.

"No matter," he said, advancing on her, the dragon behind him opening its jaws in anticipation of its next meal. "I will start anew. I will give this world the nation and god it deserves." Behind him, a dot of fire arced into the air. It was the signal. Everyone was safe."But you...I will not suffer even an unknowing rival. You will die," he said, reaching for her.

"You first," Evun'ale replied, slicing through the rope holding the massive stone in the trebuchet. She dove out of the way, feeling a bit of morbid satisfaction of the look of shock and anger on Corypheus's face as the rock sailed into the mountain side and a tsunami of snow and rocks roared toward Haven.

The dragon grabbed his monstrous master and they sailed into the air. Well, that sucked. Now she was going to die and that asshat was going to live. The avalanche rolled toward Haven with a sound like a horde of angry dragons. Something, an instinct or memory, told Evun'ale to leap to the right. She crashed through a covering of rotten boards and into darkness.

*********

The dragon crashed down in front of them, separating him from Evun'ale. Solas scrambled backward, and leapt to his feet. That thing...it was not an archdemon, but it was close enough. He twirled his staff, wishing that he had a sword. As a mage, he had not regained enough of his power to hope to defeat the monstrous creature, but he could still wield a blade with the experience of millennia of warfare.

But he would not let his love die alone. After seeing her face the Breach with such bravery, he could do no less, the Elvhen would have to go on without him. He charged forward, his face a mask of hopeless rage but someone held him back.

"Andraste's tits, Chuckles, are you insane?" Varric shouted, an iron grip on his wrist.

"I have to go to her, Varric. Let me go!" Solas said, fierce and desperate.

"Solas, you cannot hope to defeat that thing. She would not want you to throw your life away. You do not know for sure.. she has survived worse..." Cassandra said, trailing off. They all knew it was hopeless.

But the Seeker had one thing right. Evun'ale would not want him to throw his life away. She would insist that he live, that he rebuild the Elvhen. And certainly, he had the best chance of avenging her. Corypheus, he would pay. And pay and pay. He turned, shaking the other two off and stalking toward the chantry, such fury and despair filling him that he left a trail of ice in his wake. 

Cassandra and Varric followed him, their own sorrow too great to even begin to know how to comfort him. 

Solas insisted on being the one to send the signal, the last person to leave. Varric and Cassandra looked back at him, concerned. Cassandra had at first been worried that he wouldn't even be able to shoot the arrow. He was a scholar after all, not a warrior. But he took the bow with such confidence, drawing it back fully without visible effort, that the Seeker wondered if the mage hadn't been exactly truthful about his background.

"He's going to do something crazy, isn't he?" Varric said sadly as they entered the tunnels.

"I fear your are right, Varric. But it seems wrong to try to stop him. He is grieving for the woman he loves," Cassandra replied heavily. She had often wished that someone would love her like that, with the sort of consuming and sure devotion that she saw in the mage's eyes when he looked at the Herald. But in this instance, she thought the Maker would have been kinder to let those two be. As she was thinking these dour thoughts, a hand found hers in the dark, and squeezed it. Cassandra did not look at Varric, it was too strange to even acknowledge. But she squeezed his hand back.

********

Solas felt tears running down his face as he fired the flaming arrow high into the air. He wished at that moment that he believed in some kind of deity, so he would have someone to address with his desperate pleas for her safety. But he could hear the rumbling of the avalanche covering Haven a few moments later, and he knew that there was little chance for her. A wordless howl of grief rose from his lips and he fell to his knees in the snow.

Then a thought struck him. Their bond. He could find her in the Fade. If she was still alive. Even if she wasn't. What had Wisdom said? Not even death would break the bond. He took a few deep breaths, long practice at meditation able to override the turbulence of his emotions. Three deep breaths later, and he was in the Fade.

It took no time at all to find the silvery thread linking him to Evun'ale, now that he knew what to look for. He had to restrain himself from moving too quickly, doing something rash in desperation. If he concentrated, he could feel her. She was hurt, and cold, but alive. Alive! He had to help her somehow, she was still so weak, but not knowing exactly where she was, he couldn't just run after her without ending up needing rescued himself.

It was time to take a chance. Solas poured magic into the link, feeling it grow, her emotions growing stronger and stronger until they almost felt like his own. He felt the link pulling him in, he was losing himself, and he would have been concerned except that it was her. Solas felt like he was bathing in her spirit, surrounded and buoyed by her love. "Evun'ale..." he called out.

Solas could actually feel her confusion swirling through and around him. "Solas?" came her voice, hollow and afraid.

"I am here, vhenan. In the Fade,' he said smiling with relief just to hear her voice.

"Are you...all right? Am I all right?" she asked, weary, fearful, and completely bewildered.

"I am fine. I am with the others, or I soon will be. I was afraid for you, I had to try to find you. You seem to be injured."

"I...fell... There's a tunnel. My arm is probably broken...it's so cold," she said, and he could tell she was close to breaking down.

Experimentally, he tried to cast a spell for warmth and calm and healing. It wasn't something he was an expert at, but perhaps it would be enough. He could actually see the magic traveling down the link, though it made him much more tired than he thought it should have.

"What just happened? I feel better... Did you do something?" she asked, and her voice seemed stronger.

"I sent you some magic, which seems to have worked, though it cost me more than I intended. Vhenan, you must keep moving. I will tell them you are coming. We will wait for you, but you must not stop."

"I will try...I am so tired," she said. If only he had been there...he wanted to put his arms around her so badly it was like a physical pain.

"Do not give up, please, my heart. I cannot lose you," he said, making his own desperation plain. "I must go if I am to catch the others, but I will look for you again if I can."

"I'll keep going," she replied, her humor returning as she began to move. "You won't get rid of me so easily. I love you, Solas."

"Ar lath 'ma vhenan," he replied, hating to let her go, but knowing that he risked losing the trail of the rest of the Inquisition. Pulling himself out of the link was not as difficult as he feared. He simply absorbed some of his mana back into himself, and once the link was too small to contain him, it spit him back into the Fade like a cork from a bottle. This time, he did not take the bond back down to normal size. He would have things to explain to Evun'ale, if she noticed his emotions intruding on her own, but he was more worried about her safety than keeping secrets for the moment. 

Solas came back to himself in the icy tunnel. He felt drained, and he knew he should not have let his body temperature drop so low. But she was alive, and that wall all it took to push himself upright and stride forward.

It took him a few hours to catch up with the others, and by that time, he was panting and sweating, but shivering at the same time. He stopped for a moment, leaning on his staff for support. But the column of frightened people was already getting away from him.

"Wait," he croaked after them, not sure he could take another step.

"Solas?" Cassaandra's voice floated over the snow and he heard the sound of running feet before he had the strength to look up.

"Chuckles! Am I glad to see you. I thought you'd run off after that dragon to give it a piece of your mind," Varric said, patting him heavily on the shoulder.

"No," Solas said hoarsely, smiling slightly. "I was searching for Evun'ale in the Fade. She is alive."

"How is that possible?" Cassandra said, shaking him by the shoulders. "Haven is completely gone!"

"Seeker, seeker, you're going to give him brain damage," Varric said, putting a restraining hand across her chest.

"It's all right, Varric," Solas replied wearily. "I believe she has fallen into tunnels beneath Haven. She is injured, but is heading this way. We must leave a trail for her to follow."

"Do you think she can survive that, Solas? It is freezing," Cassandra said. "Perhaps we should go back for her."

"I have done what I can for now. It will be hard to help her until she emerges from the tunnels, for I do not have a guess where they might lead. My advice is that we find a place to shelter everyone. Once we have established a base of operations, I will go after her again," he said, wavering slightly on his feet.

Cassandra thought about arguing with him. Solas did not look like he was in shape to locate anybody. But truthfully, she wasn't sure if anyone else would be able to find the Herald. It looked like a storm was brewing, and she had never even heard of another mage with his abilities. So instead, she put the exhausted elf on a horse and gave him a cloak. 

"Thank you, Seeker," Solas said wearily. "We will find her, I swear it." Then he seemed to go to sleep. Yet somehow, he never fell off the horse. A few hours later, they set up a makeshift camp in a sheltered valley. When the camp was established, Solas sat by himself in a corner for several minutes, perhaps meditating, and then he walked out into the snow without a word. Dorian followed.

"Are you going after the Herald?" the Tevinter asked, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to not look as miserable as he felt. When he got back home, he swore he was never venturing south of Val Royeaux ever again.

"Yes," Solas said simply, not turning around.

"Let me come with you," Dorian said. The Tevinter mage had not got to spend very much time with the Herald, as she was both busy and besotted. But just their time in Redcliffe, and the few conversations after, had impressed him. It wasn't too often that anyone impressed Dorian Pavus, and now that he'd seen her face down an Archdemon, and apparently survive.... Plus, he was a sucker for love stories, and he could see that the other mage was already worn nearly to a thread.

"I do not think you can follow where I lead," Solas said, laughing grimly. "Besides, there are some things I am not ready to share."

Dorian laughed. "Your secrets are safe with me, Fen'harel. Unlike the others, I remember Redcliffe. And I can read."

Solas spun around, eyes flashing in surprise and then he shook his head, laughing at the apparent futility of hiding his identity. "If you can keep up, you may come. It may be beneficial to have both of us. But you might wish to have warmer clothing. Two minutes."

In less than a minute, Dorian was wearing knee length boots and a set of fur robes that looked like they'd been borrowed from one of the Avar. "Your lover had them made for me," Dorian explained at Solas's questioning look. "She said I looked cold."

Solas snorted. "Let us go then, I want to get away from the camp."

The two men strode into the sparkling white expanse, silent for several minutes. It started to snow, and the camp disappeared around the side of the mountain.

"After I change, I will not be able to speak, so if you have any questions, now is the time, " Solas said, turning to Dorian. "Also, if you mention this to anyone, I shall have to eat your soul."

The other mage laughed weakly. He was not actually sure if Solas was joking. The "Do you really know where she is?"

"I have a general idea, yes. But it is not only for speed and warmth that I will become the wolf. I intend to track her by scent, if necessary."

Dorian raised his eyebrows. "I suppose you would know what she smelled like, wouldn't you? Very well, Dread Wolf. Let us go find the missing Herald. Are you really going to make me run after you?"

"I am tempted," Solas said. "If only to teach you to keep your nose out of our business. But Evun'ale would not forgive me if I allowed you to freeze to death. You may ride on my back."

"You're joking," Dorian started to say, as Solas started to glow, his form wavering in the blowing snow. And then, suddenly, there was the biggest white wolf that Dorian had ever imagined, let alone seen, easily a large as a pony. Six blue eyes blinked back at him, and the wolf's tongue lolled in response to Dorian's shock.

"You're laughing at me, aren't you?" he said, sighing. The wolf bowed his great head, and Dorian climbed onto his back, gingerly gripping the coarse fur around his neck. "Onward, steed, to the Herald!" Dorian said, more bravely then he felt. The Dread Wolf growled unpleasantly. 

"Only joking, Solas, only joking." The wolf bounded into the snow, and Dorian nearly bashed his face in trying to hold on. He suspected that this was quite on purpose. Remembering racing horses in his youth, he leaned low over the wolf's neck, holding to the thick fur of his shoulders. If not for the somewhat dire circumstances, and the additional bizarre fact that Dorian knew that the wolf was also a man, it would have been an exhilarating way to travel. 

The speed was tremendous, and the Wolf's leaping gait was terrifying and exciting at the same time. And the wolf just kept running, no sign of exhaustion or hesitation. Dorian suddenly wondered to himself if Solas the man was equally powerful. It was too bad that he was clearly only interested in the Herald, and she in him. It wasn't every day you met a deity after all. In fact, the idea that he was actually riding on the back of a deity was starting to give Dorian a sort of existential crisis.

Then the wolf howled, not a mournful sound, but a call waiting for an an answer. It was loud enough to make Dorian's ears ring, and he heard no reply, but the wolf charged forward again. He sniffed the air, and howled.

This time, Dorian thought he heard something, a faint cry into the swirling wind. "She's here, or someone is. Let me down." The wolf leaned to let him off, and Dorian raised his staff, sending a flashing beacon of light into the air. Solas sniffed the ground, squinting through the blowing snow and moving forward cautiously while Dorian held his staff aloft. 

Suddenly, the wolf bounded forward with what sounded like a bark of glee and Dorian ran after him. By the time he reached them, the great white wolf was curled around the Herald protectively, shielding her from the wind while she had thrown her arms around his neck.

"So, it seems you weren't crazy. Our Herald is alive after all," Dorian said, relief practically driving the air from his lungs.

"Dorian?!" Evun'ale said, shocked but clearly too weak to stand. "How did you get here?"

"Your beloved carried me on his back, if you'll believe it," he said, kneeling beside them, looking her over critically. "She's practically blue with cold, and dehydrated, we need to get her back to camp as soon as we can," he said to the white wolf. "Can you carry both of us? Otherwise, you're either going to find a very handsome ice sculpture tomorrow, or it's going to be a slow trip." 

The wolf snorted and stood, shaking the snow from his back. "Dorian, I think you've insulted him," Evun'ale said, laughing weakly. The white wolf nuzzled her face in an affectionate gesture, and then bowed low. Dorian helped her on to the Wolf's back, being careful of the arm she had inexpertly splinted. Then he got on behind her, wrapping the cloak around them both and casting a warmth spell before gripping the wolf's fur.

"We're ready. Maybe not so much leaping this time. She can only hold on with one hand, after all," Dorian said. And they were off again, more of a smooth trot rather than the bounding sprint of before. If he had to guess, Dorian would have said that it took a little over an hour before they got close to the camp and Solas stopped suddenly, snorting out a puff of air that froze into a cloud around his face.

"What's wrong?" Evun'ale asked, barely conscious. 

"I believe that Solas would like to change back into himself, lest Cassandra chase him out of the camp with her sword. It's not exactly common knowledge that we've been hanging around with the Dread Wolf after all."

"Oh, right," she said vageuly, and they slid down into the snow. It was only a moment, the glow barely visible through the snow storm, and then Solas was crouched beside them. He remained there for a few seconds, getting his bearings, and then he stood, looking more exhausted than before. 

"Come, let us get to the camp before the storm buries us," he said. 

Solas was too tired to carry Evun'ale by himself as he would have liked, so he and Dorian together supported her as they trudged the last few yards through the snow. Just as he thought he might pass out from exhaustion, Cassandra and Cullen ran up.

"Maker, you found her! When we noticed you and Dorian were gone, we were concerned," Cassandra said to Solas, letting him lean on her shoulder as Cullen took his place helping Evun'ale to the tents. "Leliana and I swore we could hear wolves howling, and I feared you had been eaten, and the Herald with you."

Dorian and Solas gave each other a significant look, both of them suppressing nearly hysterical laughter. "No, Cassandra, the wolves were no trouble. I, after all, am too pretty to eat."

Solas merely shook his head and went to check on Evun'ale. The healers assured him that, besides the broken arm and a few bumps and scrapes, there was nothing wrong with her that warmth and care would not heal. He sank into the cot next to hers, grasping her small hand in his own. Despite his best intentions, he was asleep in moments.


	15. To hold Back the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas comes clean about his involvement with the Breach. Evun'ale forgives him and then with his help, leads the Inquisition to Skyhold. She is startled when they asked her to be the Inquisitor.

Evun'ale awoke with a soft groan. She hurt in her everywhere, but especially in her right arm, which had been re-splinted. More interestingly, a familiar head, starting to get fuzzy with new hair growth, rested on her chest. Solas had apparently fallen asleep in a chair beside her cot and slumped over on her in his exhaustion. She reached her hand up to touch him.

"Let him sleep," came Dorian's soft voice. "He overspent himself rescuing you. The man is a little bit insane. In a good way."

"Thank you for helping him, Dorian," Evun'ale whispered. 

"I wasn't about to let a 10,000 year old elf commit suicide. Think of all that knowledge wasted!" Dorian said teasingly.

Evun'ale smiled and Dorian grew more serious. "I don't think Thedas can afford to lose the Herald, and though I might not be as madly in love with you as he is, neither could I let you freeze to death after facing down a monster. But you should rest while you can. I have a feeling that things are about to get even more complicated."

She was still so tired. She carefully reached out, gently touching Solas's cheek before taking his hand in her own. He sighed but did not wake. Evun'ale smiled and fell back into slumber.

This time, she found herself in the Fade. Solas was not hard to find in his dream. He sat on the bench from the temple in the Brecilian Forest, lost in thought. She sat down next to him, and he wordlessly reached for her hand.

She entwined her fingers with his and rested her head on his shoulder. After a few moments of silence, she turned to look at him. "Solas? Are you all right?"

"I thought I had lost you, vhenan. I can still hardly believe that you survived," he said in a choked voice. "I suppose it put my decisions into perspective, somewhat. I am so sorry, Evun'ale. You have suffered much for my mistakes."

"What are you talking about? Corypheus nearly killed me, you had nothing to do with that," she said, touching his face as she looked into his eyes.

"Corypheus came for the Anchor. Your mark, his rise to power, is no fault but mine," Solas said, summoning forth a vision of him creating the Veil.

"The orb! It was yours," Evun'ale said with a gasp. "I thought I recognized it, but I couldn't think."

"My foci. With it, I created the Veil, and doomed the Elvhen to mortality," he admitted.

"How did Corypheus get it? You didn't give it to him?" She could hardly believe that Solas would willingly work with such a creature.

"Not directly. When I heard of his plans, I let my agents leave the orb for him to find. I had assumed he would die in the resulting explosion. Doing the world a favor in addition to furthering my own goals. Of course, if I had known at the time what kind of powers he had..."

"But why?"

Solas looked sad and ashamed. "When I awoke, I was weak. I could hardly believe what the Veil had done to the People. To me, it was like walking through a world of Tranquil. I vowed to fix it, at any cost. But I did not have enough power to unlock the foci."

"So you were going to let Corypheus do it, and then reclaim the orb from his body. And then what?" she asked, in too much shock to really consider the implications.

"I would have torn down the Veil, using the Anchor that you now bear. In the raw chaos that followed, I would use the power to reshape the world, bringing back the Arlathan that was lost." He sighed.

"I guess I ruined everyone's plans," Evun'ale said sadly. She was shocked that Solas would condone such destruction and suffering to further his goals. Perhaps she didn't know him as well as she thought she did.

He took her chin in his hand, lifting her head so that he could look in her eyes. "No, Evun'ale. You have saved me. When I awoke, I was a broken man. I went to the Dalish, you know. I tried to teach them some of what they has lost. And they drove me away. One clan even tried to harm me. I saw nothing around me that was worth saving." He looked into the distance, remembering. "Of course, I did not enjoy the thought of causing so much suffering, but as I said, before I met you, and Cassandra, Varric, and Dorian, the people of the world..they were hardly people to me. They were a pale image of what they could be."

"And now? What are you going to do?" she asked tremulously, afraid to hear the answer.

"I am going to help you stop Corypheus, first of all. And then... I do not know. I hope to find some way to bring the past into the future, but I no longer wish to do it at the expense of this world." Solas looked at her, his eyes sad and desperate. "I am sorry that I did not tell you the whole truth before now. I was... afraid. And ashamed." He took her hand, rubbing his thumb over her small palm. "Whatever happens, I would not wish to do it without you. If you would consent to love such a fool as I am." He held his breath. 

Evun'ale threw her arms around his neck. "Of course, I still love you. You couldn't have known that Corypheus would survive. As for the rest, I may not agree with your actions, but I do understand your reasons."

Solas let out a long breath, wrapping his arms around Evun'ale's back, pressing his brow against hers. "I do not deserve you, vhenan," he said, tears starting to fall from his eyes. 

"Deserved or not, you have me," she said, reaching up to wipe away his tears and kissing his cheek. "Are you ready to face the world again?"

"Hardly. But I believe we will have little choice in the matter soon. Still, there is one more thing I would show you."

He took her into the raw Fade and showed her the link that bound them together. "This is how I found you. We are connected, heart to heart."

"Did you do this?" she asked, touching the silver string carefully, and feeling the same pang in her soul that Solas had felt before.

"No. This has always been here, since you arrived. Perhaps before, though I did not know to look. I can open the link further, or make it somewhat smaller. But it cannot be dismissed. I have been told that not even death can break such a connection."

"You're serious?" she said, the look on his face answering the question for her. "What does it mean? What does it do?"

"As for what it means, that is a matter for philosophical debate. My research indicates that this corresponds to a concept the Elvhen called nas'falon. The soul-friend. It is quite rare, and most people regard it as a romantic myth, a story told to children." He smiled gently. "I was startled to discover it, as you might imagine. As far as what it does.." He poured a bit of magic into the link and Evun'ale watched it expand. Then suddenly, she gasped.

"I feel something...I felt this before, in the Fallow Mire." She felt love, and relief, guilt and joy, and she knew they weren't her own.

"You are feeling my emotions. And I am feeling yours. I apologize for before. Then, I did not know what I was looking at, and I experimented to see what would happen. When you fell beneath Haven, I opened the link as far as I could, which allowed me to speak to you."

"That's amazing," she said. "Although I don't know why you didn't show me this earlier. Were you afraid I'd figure out all your secrets?"

Solas chuckled. "No. I have given up trying to hide my feelings from you. It is only that we were busy, and I wasn't sure how to explain it. I had planned on showing you after the Breach was sealed. I was still hoping against hope that Corypheus had met his end, and that the orb had been picked up by someone else." He sighed with regret, and Evun'ale reached for his hand. The warmth of their intertwined fingers, even in the Fade, was a comfort to both of them.

"Now, I suppose we had better get back to the waking world. I believe your advisers have been yelling at each other for hours. But I wanted to ask you if you would like to leave the link open for a time. It might prove interesting."

Evun'ale raised her eyebrows. She knew that for Solas, this was an extreme gesture of trust. Open to her like this, he would not be able to hide much, if anything. "I would like that. I often wonder what's going on behind those silvery eyes of yours."

He smiled. "Very well. Now let us return. I have a feeling that your input is needed."

*********

Evun'ale took a bit longer to wake than Solas, and so when she finally came to, he was standing outside the tent, speaking quietly with Dorian. Mother Giselle was sitting beside her cot and in the background Cassandra and Cullen were yelling at each other.

"Are they still arguing?" Evun'ale said, the pounding in her head making her tone She sat up, still aching all over, but her heart was lighter. The frustration and annoyance that she felt from Solas mirrored her own.

"They have that luxury, thanks to you. With time to doubt, they turn to blame. Infighting may become just as dangerous as this Corypheus. But you should rest while you can. We do not know what will happen next, but the people will need your strength," Mother Giselle said kindly.

"Where is Corypheus now? Does anyone know?" Evun'ale asked.

"We do not even know where we are. Which is likely part of the reason they are upset. They are afraid."

"Yelling isn't going to solve our problems. Only make them worse."

"Of course, you are right. But the leaders struggle because of what the survivors witnessed. They saw our defender stand, and fall. Now you have returned. The farther away Corypheus is, the more miraculous you seem. Are these trials ordained, they wonder? What should they believe?"

"I'm not some kind of blessed hero. I didn't come back from the dead. Solas and Dorian saved my life," Evun'ale replied, exasperated. 

"The people know what they saw. If even half of what that monster claimed is true, why would Andraste not raise someone up to oppose him?" Giselle said, her eyes shining with devotion.

"The people can believe what they want, but Corypheus is a real, physical threat. We can't defeat him on faith alone," she said, frustrated by the woman's obtuseness. Unless Mythal was the Maker, which she somehow doubted, Andraste had nothing to do with this. She pushed herself to her feet and half stomped, half limped from the tent. All of the advisers had retreated to their separate corners. Evun'ale sighed. Then Mother Giselle started to sing. Great.

But then, Leliana joined in the song. And so did Cassandra and Cullen. Soon nearly the whole camp was singing, all staring at her with hope and faith. It made her fairly uncomfortable. Yet she could feel something else that comforted her. Love and pride, and not a little bit of humor was flowing through her bond with Solas, and when she glanced over at him, he was smiling.

Once the song was over and Evun'ale was able to break through the throng of worshipers, she went to where Solas was standing at the edge of the camp. A few steps away, a ridge looked out into darkness. Solas lit a veilfire torch he had planted in the snow.

"It has been a long time since one of our own has been raised so high. We will have to be cautious. I fear if the world finds out the source of the orb, it will only give them more cause to abuse the elves," he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"I hope that if we stop Corypheus, where the orb came from won't matter so much. Still, at this point, it seems like the least of our worries," she replied, snuggling against him as a cold gust of wind blew over the peak.

"You are correct, of course. But I think that I have a solution for one of our problems. After speaking to Dorian and Leliana about our whereabouts, I believe we are near to a place that would be ideal as a new base of operations for the Inquisition."

"And that is?"

"I do not want to spoil the surprise. I will say that there is a fortress in the mountains to the north. A place for you to grow into. You shall lead them to it," he said slyly, burying his face in her hair.

"Why are you helping them turn me in to some sort of living legend?" she asked, him, frowning.

"Perhaps I wish the whole world to see how extraordinary you are."

"Hmmph," Evun'ale said, not believing that for a minute, but enjoying his closeness too much to argue.

He laughed. "You are quite right to be skeptical. I am entirely too selfish to want to share you. But, you give the people hope, and even I am not immune to it. When I look at you, I believe that the world is worth saving. That the Elvhen can be reborn, if you are there to lead them. And so, I will aid you however I can. I tried to save the world once, and what I made was worse than what I started with. Perhaps together, we may avoid the same fate."

"I like that, together," Evun'ale said softly, reaching up to touch his cheek. He kissed her palm.

"They used to call me He Who Hunts Alone. I never imagined I would grow to dislike solitude. Yet, now I can hardly imagine enjoying a moment without you in it."

********

So Evun'ale led them, with Solas at her side. It was nearly a week's journey through the mountains. People were cold, tired, and hungry. But they followed the Herald, they trusted her.

When they crested the final ridge, Evun'ale gasped at the huge gray castle in the distance.

"Skyhold," Solas said, both his tone and his emotions humming with pleasure and relief. 

"How on earth did you find this place?" Blackwall asked as they walked over the dizzyingly high bridge to the main gate.

"I looked," Solas said simply, but Evun'ale could feel the mischief in his voice. "You can find many interesting things in the Fade."

Evun'ale pursed her lips. She was going to get answers out of him later, and she knew through their bond that he was looking forward to her interrogation.

It took several days to get everyone settled and the fortress was still a wreck, but all of the surviving members of the Inquisition were still beyond thrilled. The day that the last wagon rolled in through the main gate, they scheduled a celebration. But to Evun'ale's surprise, they called her from the festivities to stand on the stairway. Everyone was looking up expectantly.

Cassandra was holding a very fancy sword. "What is going on?" Evun'ale asked, nervous and bewildered. She could feel Solas laughing at her.

"Throughout this whole catastrophe, you have been the one to stand up in the face of every problem. You have made the hard decisions and kept a cool head and a compassionate heart," Cassandra said. "By unanimous consent, we have chosen you to lead us."

"What? But..its your Inquisition. I'm an elf. I don't even believe in the Maker," she whispered fiercely.

"I know. Yet we would not have survived without you. Several times over. I cannot think of anyone I would rather hand the fate of the world to."

Evun'ale looked down at all the waiting, hopeful faces. She saw Solas looking up at her and she could feel his love and pride in her accomplishments. They would do it together, but even he believed that she should be the one to lead. With a deep indrawn breath, she took the sword in her hand. "We will restore order to Thedas together. A world where every life has value," she said, raising the sword above her head.

"Inquisition, will you follow the Herald?" Cullen shouted. There was a rousing cheer. "Then I give you your Inquisitor!"

Hours later, she trudged up what felt like a thousand stairs to the tower room that Cassandra and the others had insisted belonged to her. She actually wasn't sure where Solas was, and she was so tired that she was content just knowing that he was all right. Her bones ached, her head ached, and her mouth tasted funny from all the different drinks that had been pushed on her. She reached out to turn the latch and the door opened in front of her.

"If they did not let you come up soon, I was considering making it snow on the celebration," Solas said, his eyes sparkling. She fell into his arms gratefully, feeling that of all the surprises of the past week, this one was far and away the best.


	16. A Place of Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition travels to the Forbidden Oasis to investigate Solasan Temple and Solas and Evun'ale take advantage of the water. Back at Skyhold, they make mischief working on the mural together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Venavis: stop  
> 'ma vhenan'ara: my heart's desire  
> Bellanaris: eternity  
> Melanada: for all time  
> Ir abelas: I'm sorry.

Skyhold was a mess. But it was their mess. When Evun'ale had worried aloud about whether the former owners of the castle would stop by to object, Solas had snorted. She cornered him later in the rotunda, which he had claimed as his own study, though he slept in the tower with her. "Spill the beans, love. You know more about this place than you're saying."

"I do not know what beans you are referring to," he said with a smirk. She pressed him against the wall, enjoying the flame of desire it kindled in their bond.

"You know what I meant. Tell me what about Skyhold's history is so amusing," she said, breathing into his ear, which made him squirm. A hoot from the library above, which sounded suspiciously like Dorian, was all the encouragement that Solas needed to relent.

"Venavis, vhenan," he said huskily. "You will drive me to distraction. I will tell you." She let go of him reluctantly, taking a step back. As much as she enjoyed teasing him, she didn't really want to start making out in front of everyone.

"Guess I'll have to save that for later," she said with a sultry grin.

Solas's eyes smoldered at the suggestion, but he cleared his throat and looked away, recovering his composure. "Let us just say that I know the former owner personally and he would be glad to see Skyhold used again. I will show you more in the Fade. There are some," he said, pointedly glancing up at the library, "who are much too curious for their own good." An answering chortle from upstairs only proved his point.

So that night, after the two of them, pleasantly exhausted, fell asleep in her bed, Solas took Evun'ale into the memories of Skyhold. It took a while to get to the oldest ones. Many of the visions showed Skyhold empty, home to nothing but howling winds. But finally, they got to memories where the fortress was whole.

And of course, standing at the war table, or pacing the battlements, who did they see but a young Fen'harel? A bold warrior and general, or later, sad and exhausted, but still powerful and confident.

"Skyhold was yours?" Evun'ale whispered to Solas, whose head rested upon her own, his arms around her waist.

"Yes. The true name of the castle, if it has one, is Tarasyl'an Tel'as: the place where the sky was held back. It is where I created the Veil. But I give it to you and the Inquisition freely. It is a strong place, and well-warded. I think it fitting that it will be used to amend my errors as well as to guard what is most precious to me," he said, kissing her neck. She shivered, and soon there was no more talking.

********

A few days later, with Evun'ale's injuries fully healed by a combination of rest and magic, they headed out to a place called the Forbidden Oasis. Research into the shards had led to some sort of temple in the area which the Venatori were also investigating. It was a long trip, but Evun'ale spent it in pleasant companionship, electing to bring Solas, Cole and Blackwall. Solas and Cole often had bizarre conversations, and Cole had a somewhat irritating habit of repeating their most embarrassing thoughts, but he was usually very sweet. Solas had explained that Cole was actually a spirit of compassion who had crossed the Fade and made his own body, which, to his knowledge had not happened for thousands of years. 

Blackwall clearly found the idea unsettling, yet he was a good man, willing to let anyone have a chance. It wasn't quite as much fun as Cassandra and Varric, or Dorian, but it wasn't bad. Being able to sleep in Solas's arms every night was a balm to her worst moods.

However, the climate had become quite hot and dry, and Evun'ale found herself thinking almost longingly of the Fallow Mire as the sun glared down on them. Of course, she and Solas could get by in light clothing, and Cole hardly seemed to feel the heat, but Blackwall was miserable. When they finally reached the forbidding expanse of sand and cliff that held the temple, he grumpily asked where the reported oasis was. It was already mid-afteroon, but the heat, they knew from experience, would only get more intense until the sun actually went down. 

"Down there," Solas said, after glancing through the nearby ocularum. "I cannot say why it is forbidden, but it is certain to be cooler."

They headed down, picking up shards they spotted on the way. There wasn't much in the way of enemies, a few Venatori and some aggressive wildlife, it was too hot for anyone else to be around. Besides, the few journals and letters they found lying around indicated that something creepy was going on at the temple, and in the mine nearby. 

Still, there was a perfect place to camp right next to the water, and they set up the tents quickly with the aid of their scouts. Evun'ale practically dove into the water with her clothes on. "Oh, this feels so much better," she said, splashing water over her face and neck. The three men were staring at her with bemused expressions.

"If you guys want to bake in the sun, that's your affair," she said easily.

"Most people bathe with their clothes off," Blackwall said with a chuckle. Solas gave him a look. "Not that I'm suggesting that I...that you... Never mind."

"They come off? I didn't know they came off," Cole said incredulously, picking thoughtfully at his own shirt. 

Blackwall shook his head. "Come on, boy. I'll help you. Let's leave the Herald to her swimming before I get myself in even more trouble." The warden stalked away, leading Cole to the other end of the pool, already beginning to explain the difference between armor, clothing, and skin.

Evun'ale laughed, and before Solas could react, she grabbed his leg and pulled him in after her. He yelled and sputtered before sending a jet of cold through the water that made her yelp. "Hey!"

"That was completely justified vengeance," he said with a slight smile. He pulled his shirt over his head and wrung it out before tossing it onto the shore.

"You're going to get a sunburn on those pale shoulders," she said, swimming up to him with a gleam in her eye.

"Is that why you jumped in with all your clothes on?" he asked, tossing his pendant and gloves on to the shore with his shirt.

"Partly," she admitted. "And partly I'm just impatient and I know my clothes are covered in sand and demon goo." There had been a rift or two to close on the way.

"Quite true. But I know a spell to protect from sunburn. Otherwise my head would often suffer," he said, wryly indicating his baldness.

"You should grow your hair," she said, smiling and wrapping her arms around his bare waist. "I liked the way you were wearing it in the past." She had meant to tell him that before; every time she saw memories of him in the Fade, she wanted to run her fingers through his long chestnut locks.

"Perhaps I will. Though I find baldness much easier to maintain. And it goes better with my aged scholar persona," he added, chuckling, and pulling her up so that she was pressed against his bare chest. 

"I doubt you're fooling anyone. Except maybe Cassandra," she said, somewhat breathlessly, shivering at both the breeze on her wet clothes and his closeness. 

"Allow me to aid you," he said, his voice low. He pulled her tunic over her head, his eyes dark. They didn't leave her for a moment, even as he wrung the shirt out and laid it next to his own. His hands glowed with magic and he passed them over her, close enough so that her skin tingled with anticipation of his touch. "There. Now you will at least not have to worry about injury from the sun."

Evun'ale took his hands in her own and leaned on tiptoe to kiss him gently on the mouth. He sighed contentedly, his hands going to rest on her hips. "Perhaps we should let the rest of our clothes dry as well," she said quietly, feeling his lips curve against her own.

"We will have to be quick, lest Blackwall and Cole discover us," he said, his fingers already working at the lacing of her breeches.

"Maybe I don't mind them knowing just who you belong to," she said, her voice husky with the shared desire in their bond. She knew Solas could feel it too, and only served to drive both of them even wilder. As he pushed her pants over her hips, she unlaced his trousers and he groaned as she caressed his length with gentle fingers.

"Only to you, 'ma vhenan'ara," he said as he lifted her, pressing her back against the sandstone. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him into her, moaning at the fullness of their joining. The feeling of his pleasure flowing into her mind only added to her own joy. "Bellanaris, vhenan, melanada," Solas whispered as they moved together.

"Forever, I am yours, my Solas," she said, gasping with pleasure and need and love. When they reached their peak together, their cries echoing through the canyon despite their efforts to be discreet, she thought her heart might burst from their shared feelings. 

They slid down into the water, Solas gathering her into his lap. "I think they might have heard us, my heart," he said wryly. "You make it difficult for me to keep control of myself."

"I know," she said, smiling and caressing the side of his face. "I'm actually fairly proud of it. They're big boys, I think they can handle a bit of salacious noise."

"If I did not know better, I'd say you were a desire demon come to test my resolve," he said, chuckling.

A little while later, they sat wrapped together in Solas's cloak as the sun dried their clothes. Blackwall and Cole returned, both damp and shirtless. Cole was smiling, but the warden looked uncomfortable and red-faced. Evun'ale hid her smirk behind Solas's shoulder.

By general consensus, they decided to rest through the rest of the afternoon and to resume exploring once the sun set. Solas agreed to take first watch, and Evun'ale laid in the shade beside him, letting the heat and the sound of his soft voice singing lull her to sleep. 

It took a couple of hours for them to find a path that actually led to the entrance of the temple. There was a difficult rift inside Spiral Mine, which was made only creepier in the darkness, but finally, they emerged on a high wooden walkway that offered a panoramic view of the oasis as well as a way to the shelf of rock that housed the temple entrance. They admired the view for a moment as Solas's sharp eyes scanned the area through the ocularum. "This area is certainly littered with the shards. Hopefully this temple will gives us more clues," he said.

They scrambled down a ramp of collapsed planks down to the door of the temple. A feeling of deep unease filled Evun'ale, though the temple seemed unremarkable but for the door. "This place gives me the creeps," she said with a shiver.

"Me too. Ugh. Do we have to go in here?" Blackwall asked gruffly.

"I feel it also," Solas said, his brow furrowed in thought. "I believe it is magical in nature. Some sort of ward, perhaps."

Evun'ale screwed up her courage and went to the plaque by the door to read it. "Solasan? Any relation?" she asked, looking at Solas with raised eyebrows.

He walked over to stand beside her, running his fingers over the faded engravings. "No. Solas simply means pride in Elvhen." Blackwall snorted, but Solas ignored him. "This reads: Our arrogance became our downfall. Come not to a place of pride. Now let humility grant favor. I believe it is telling us to keep out." 

"Maybe we should listen to it," Blackwall offered hopefully, but Evun'ale was already examining the door, swallowing past her fear.

"Look at these indentations. I bet the shards will fit in here," she said, tracing it with her fingers. Solas nodded, and grabbed the extra bag from his back. It was full of the strange glowing chunks of rock, which were luckily lighter than they appeared. Evun'ale placed a shard into each empty hollow on the door and it glowed green and swung inward, much like the door in future Redcliffe had.

As soon as they entered the corridor, the feeling of unease dissipated. They all breathed easier. "It must have indeed been some sort of warding spell," Solas said. "Now that we are inside, it does not trouble us further. We should be wary."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Blackwall muttered as they went forward. The door directly in front of them was sealed tight, but Evun'ale saw the familiar flicker of veilfire around the corner. There they found three doors, each different.

"Spirit. Ice. Fire," Evun'ale said thoughtfully. "What do you make of it, Solas?"

He frowned. "I could not say. I can sense magic at work behind each door, as well as enemies. Perhaps we should look around. The Veilfire may reveal more."

They peered around the corridor with the Veilfire and finally, they did find something. "I feel like the doors will grant us some sort of gift?" Evun'ale said, trying to make sense of the odd rush of feelings and images. She looked back at the three doors, finally approaching the one covered in ice. Ice reminded her of Solas, so it seemed the most welcoming. She approached the door, not surprised to find that it required more shards. Solas handed them to her wordlessly. "All right," she said. "Everybody ready?"

They glanced at each other. "I believe we are prepared," Solas answered. She placed that shards and the door swung open.

It actually wasn't a difficult fight, just a group of undead that they dispatched easily. The room had a bit of treasure in it, but the casket at the center they left for last. "Why do I feel like a vampire is going to jump out at me?"

"Vampire?" Solas asked, his eyebrows raised in confusion.

"I'll tell you later," she said, pushing the lid of the casket aside. Glowing motes of energy swirled right into her, tingling as they were absorbed.

Solas took her hand, looking at her seriously. "Are you all right? The magic targeted you rather specifically." Their link hummed with concern.

"I feel fine," she said, as he passed a glowing hand over her, his brow furrowed in thought. 

"Hmmm. It looks as if you have been granted some magical resistance. Perhaps the power was attracted to the Anchor." There were some obviously magic weapons and runes in the stone sarcophagus as well.

"I guess we should find more of the shards, if we're going to get such nice presents." Everyone laughed.

As they walked out of the door, Solas broke away from the group, and peered at a greenish orb sitting on a pedestal. "Evun'ale, come over here," he said, beckoning. "I believe this device was used to measure the Veil. If we activate it, it may strengthen the wards in this area."

"Will that keep more rifts from opening?" Evun'ale asked, pressing her left hand to the orb. At the touch of the Anchor, it blazed into life.

"We can only hope. I believe there should be several more. When we return to Skyhold, I will research to see if I can locate them."

After the temple, they closed a few more rifts, cleared a boatload of spiders out of some ruins, and climbed all over the place looking for shards. Their last night in the Oasis, Solas and Evun'ale bathed in the pool by moonlight while Cole and Blackwall slept under a ridiculous amount of ward spells. "I am almost sad to return to Skyhold," Solas said as they floated on their backs with hands clasped. "I would not have guessed how much you enjoyed swimming. Not many in Thedas even know how in these days. It is not seen as a particularly useful skill."

"I've always loved the water. At least, it seems that way to me. Sometimes I wish I remembered more, from before," she dreamily.

Solas sighed, wondering if this was the right time to tell her this. "I saw some of your memories in the Fade. Mythal has locked them away," he said, pulling her toward him. She turned to look at him, but let herself be held in the circle of his arms.

"Why would she have done that? What did you see? Why didn't you tell me?" she asked in a rush.

"The reason she locked them away is perhaps the same reason I have not spoken. I was afraid they would be hurtful to you. With all the burdens you already bear, even some of my own, I was hesitant to add another. I stumbled upon them when I was investigating our bond, and I saw much of your life before."

"Were the memories that bad? Most of things I remember are fairly... normal, I guess."

"There were some terrible things. But mostly, I was afraid that you would be overcome with regret if you saw what you had left behind. I am afraid that this world is a terrible substitute." Evun'ale did not need to hear the concern in his voice, for she could feel all through their bond. He felt guilty that he had not told her before, he thought she would blame him for what she had lost. That she would regret her choice, and there was nothing he could do. He would not blame her, but there was no way to send her back either. What if she resented him?

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to look into his eyes. Even in the dim light he could see them shining. "Solas, I told you I made the choice freely. Nothing I could remember would change my love for you. You know it's the truth because you can feel it as much as I can."

He rested his brow on hers, shutting his eyes against tears that threatened to spill. "Ir abelas, vhenan. I have let my fear get the best of me. I will show them to you, if you would like. But let us wait until we return to Skyhold. I still worry that they will prove overwhelming for you, so I would prefer that we are somewhere safe."

"It's a deal," she said, smiling and pulling herself in for a kiss.

********

In another week, they were back at the fortress. After a long meeting with the advisers, Evun'ale trudged over to the rotunda. It was already long past sunset, but to her surprise, Solas was not reading, as he usually was at this time. He had erected scaffolding, and was crouched on top of it, shirtless, and humming to himself as he stirred a bucket. She watched, torn between amusement, confusion, and frank admiration of his lean body. 

Whatever he was doing, he seemed satisfied, and standing, he turned to the wall and started to apply, with his fingers, something that had the consistency of thick paint. He continued to hum to himself, covering the whole top of the wall with a bright orange-red. Evun'ale watched, fascinated. Solas was so consumed by his task that he still hadn't noticed her, but she was terribly curious, so she carefully started to climb the ladder.

Solas's face appeared over the edge, ready to deliver a lecture to whomever was disturbing him, until he saw who it was. "Are you finally done? I had all but given up on seeing you today," he said, stepping back so she could also come up.

"Yeah. Josephine wants to hire a dance instructor and a dressmaker." she said with a frown. "Apparently, our best bet to help Empress Celene is to attend a ball in Orlais. Not my idea of a good time. But what are you doing?"

Solas chuckled. "I can hardly wait to see you dancing. I am sure you will do well. As for me, I am making a mural of the Inquisitor's accomplishments."

"Really?" she said, peering curiously at his materials. "Plaster? I've never done a fresco before."

"I nearly forgot that you used to paint. Would you like to help me?" he asked.

"I wouldn't want to mess it up," she said cautiously. "As I said, I've never worked with plaster like this."

"You can only learn by doing," he said. "It is a mural of your actions, your hand can only improve it."

She laughed. "If you say so. Teach me then. What should I do first?"

"You may wish to take off your jacket at the very least. It is not for vanity that I am not wearing a shirt. This may get messy."

So a moment later, she was down to her undershirt and leggings, and Solas was teaching her how to blend plaster. They had got down from the scaffolding and rolled it aside to work on the bottom portion of the mural.

"So what is this part going to be? The sky is very red."

"I had planned to make this section an illustration of the opening of the Breach at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. You see, here I have already outlined the mountains. And there is the breach coming down from the sky."

They worked long into the night, talking and laughing, and throwing plaster at each other. It was only an hour or two before dawn when they snuck quietly through the main hall. Josephine was standing in the doorway to the council chamber when she saw them pass, half dressed and smeared in paint. "Inquisitor? Solas? What have you been doing?"

They both froze, their faces stuck somewhere between surprise and trying not to laugh. "We were...recording the deeds of the Inquisition..." Evun'ale said innocently.

"For posterity," Solas said in the same tone, his eyes wide. 

Josephine narrowed her eyes. "Really?" Evun'ale nodded, biting her lip to keep from laughing. "Well, if you haven't slept at all, you had better get cleaned up and get some rest. Varric wanted you to meet a friend of his after lunch."

"Thank you. I'll be ready," she said, and then they scooted past Josephine and up the stairs to the bedroom, saving their laughter for when they were safely behind the closed door. 

"I fear Josephine does not approve of our behavior," Solas said with a smile, wetting a cloth in the basin and wiping some paint off of her forehead. 

Evun'ale laughed. "If they wanted a serious and distinguished Inquisitor, they should have picked someone else. Maybe that aloof scholar of the Fade I heard about. Haven't seen him around yet, but he sounds pretty respectable," she said, rubbing a smear of green plaster from Solas's shoulder.

"You have wounded me, my heart," he said, holding the towel to his head in mock sorrow. "Your influence has certainly been detrimental to the practical and studious image I was trying to project," he said lovingly, wiping yet more paint from her cheek.

She smiled, slipping her arms around his waist and kissing his chest. "Oh, my poor love. Whatever are you going to do?" He grinned, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to the bed.

"I am sure I can think of something."


	17. Revelations From the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evun'ale meets Varric's old friend, and then has to intervene in the ensuing argument between the dwarf and Cassandra. As they prepare to leave for Crestwood, Solas keeps his promise to show Evun'ale at least some of her memories.

Evun'ale was somewhat bleary-eyed when she met Varric on the battlements early that afternoon. Josephine had knocked on the door at noon exactly and it was Solas's sleepy grumbling that had woken her. But once she was out of bed, it had only taken a gentle caress to his cheek before he was asleep again. She smiled at the memory, hands clasped around the warm mug of coffee that Josephine had wordlessly handed her as she trudged out the front door of the keep.

The cool wind off the mountains invigorated her a little so that by the time Varric got there she was feeling almost civil.

"Inquisitor! What's this I hear about late night nude painting sessions?"

Her mouth dropped in shock. "We were not nude!" she retorted, her cheeks and ears reddening dramatically.

"Ha!" he said, pointing his finger at her. "But some of it is true. And what about the Forbidden Oasis? Why poor Blackwall was so flustered he could hardly speak."

"Stop it, you hairy chested ass!" she shouted, her voice rising sharply with her desperation. Then her eyes narrowed dangerously. "I swear if you put details of my love life into a book or song or anything.... I will... do...something..." she trailed off. She wasn't entirely experienced at threatening. All of the things that sounded scary enough to be a deterrent seemed much too cruel in practice.

Varric nearly doubled over laughing. "Don't worry, Moonbright. I'll keep the salacious details under wraps. But I can't deny your epic romance is pretty inspiring. The public loves that kind of stuff. A lonely apostate from the mountains meets a mysterious Dalish girl with amnesia. Together they fight the forces of evil that threaten to tear them apart!" Evun'ale scowled, unimpressed. "Anyway, you should ask Chuckles for intimidation lessons. He is much scarier."

"Just who is this friend of yours?" she asked impatiently, changing the subject. "Why are you being so secretive?"

Varric sighed. "I might have previously told Cassandra I didn't know where he was. But that was before. Now, well, we could use his connections, and he needs some backup." The dwarf actually looked contrite. "Come on out, Hawke," he called. 

A gangly dark haired man emerged from behind the door. He had a cocky swagger and the artfully rumpled appearance of a man who was trying to look like he didn't care what anyone thought. But his smile was fairly genuine. 

"Inquisitor, may I present the Champion of Kirkwall, Stellan Hawke," Varric said with a flourish. "Hawke, meet Inquisitor Evun'ale. I don't actually know her last name."

Evun'ale shook the man's hand sheepishly. "I don't know it either, so...." Also, she knew hardly anything about Hawke, except that he was important to the beginnings of the mage rebellion. Another thing to research.

"Yeah, well, the name's not everything you know. I mean, my mother named me Champion and I turned out to be a liar and a thief," Hawke replied brightly.

Evun'ale laughed. "So what can the Inquisition do for you? Or the other way around? Varric wasn't actually clear on that."

"Ah. It's a bit of both actually. You see, I've got some ties to the Gray Wardens. My sister Bethany is a Warden, and we've done business in the past. There's a Warden called Stroud who was researching corruption in the ranks. I knew him in Kirkwall. Good guy, ridiculous facial hair. Anyway, he wants me to meet him where he's holed up in Crestwood. That's where you come in."

"It's a demon-infested hellhole isn't it?" Evun'ale said with a weary sigh.

"Undead mostly," Hawke said. "But close. Also, full of rifts. The town's in bad shape. They barely survived the Blight, and now... I figured you'd need to head over there anyway. So, if you'll help me get to Stroud, I'll get you info on what's up with the Wardens."

"It's a deal. I look forward to working with you," Evun'ale said, smiling. The Champion of Kirkwall seemed like he'd be fun, if nothing else. Hawke grinned and slapped Varric on the back.

"I'll meet you in Crestwood, Inquisitor. After Varric buys me a couple of drinks."

*******

After convening the War Council, it was decided that they would leave Skyhold in three days time. Evun'ale dithered for a while about who she would bring. Somehow she felt Blackwall ought to be involved, if the Wardens were going to be an issue, but she rather missed having Cassandra and Varric around. She went to the smithy to ask the Seeker's opinion and walked into the middle of an argument.

"You knew where he was the whole time! You lied to me, you slimy, deceitful ass!" Cassandra was yelling, advancing on Varric with her fist raised.

"What did you expect me to do? You were keeping me in prison! For all I knew, you were going the hang the guy to satisfy your sense of duty. The Templars were looking for a scapegoat," Varric said, backing up with something like actual fear on his face, though it was also tempered with his own anger.

"I believed your story, Maker help me! Are you even capable of telling the truth? Just where do your loyalties lie, Varric?"

The dwarf looked a bit hurt, but also defensive. He was probably about to say something really cutting. Evun'ale decided that she'd better step in.

"Enough, both of you! Cassandra, that was unworthy. Varric has done as much as any of us." Varric started to smile smugly. "That doesn't mean you're off the hook. I understand that you were trying to protect your friend. But no more secrets, Varric. If you've got any more surprises..."

"I know, you're right, show my hand or fold," he said with a sigh. "But I really don't have anything. I mean, yes, I have carta contacts, and things like that, but I haven't been hiding that sort of stuff. If we need it, I'll give it. I'm all in, Inquisitor, I swear."

Cassandra bent over her desk, her head hanging to cover her emotional turmoil. "Just go, Varric, please..." The dwarf could not leave fast enough, but he gave Evun'ale a grateful smile as he closed the door. "I am sorry, Inquisitor. You are right, I let my temper get the best of me," Cassandra said after he was gone.

"Well, I am almost threw him off the battlements earlier, so.." Evun'ale shrugged. "It happens."

"After what happened in Kirkwall, and the mage rebellion, we were desperate for answers. When I first found Varric, I was angry. I thought Hawke had fanned the flames of dissent deliberately. But things are never that simple. Once I heard the story, I thought that Hawke might be who we were looking for. A leader for the Inquisition. Someone who would get to the bottom of things, follow their conscience, make the hard decisions."

"You really think Hawke would be better than me? Whatever Varric told you, we were not nude!" 

Cassandra snorted. "Maker, I don't even want to know. But no. I apologize. I did not mean to sound as if I regretted you. You have been exactly what we needed, when we needed it. If you weren't sent by the Maker, then I don't know how we managed such luck."

"Getting nearly blown up and covered by a mountain must've made up for it, I guess," Evun'ale said with a smile. 

"Perhaps," Cassandra said wryly. "I know Varric means well. It is my fault, really. If I had been a little less..."

"Scary?" Evun'ale offered.

"Yes," Cassandra said, now smiling. "If I had half the skill with words that he does, things might have gone differently. But now, I can hardly imagine winning this fight with anyone else. You lighten people's hearts when they most need it. You show people that duty doesn't have to be grim, that order can be restored with compassion. I certainly could not have done that."

"Thank you, Cassandra," Evun'ale replied, sincerely. She and the Seeker didn't always agree, but they had become friends based on mutual respect. "I don't always feel like I'm cut out for this job."

"I think if you thought you deserved it, you wouldn't. Now, go on, I am sure Solas is wondering where you have run off to. That's another reason to be glad you're with us. I'm afraid that if you weren't here, I would have scared the poor man off long ago. And we would not have closed the Breach nor found Skyhold without him."

******

That night, after discussing their impending departure for Crestwood, Solas and Evun'ale curled closely together in the bed, each reading a separate book. Suddenly Evun'ale sighed and dropped her head on Solas's chest with an expression of annoyance.

"Is something wrong, 'ma lath?" he said, running his fingers through her unbound hair. Evun'ale's hair was one of his favorite features, physically, at least. It was pale as moonlight or spun flax, fine and soft, yet it flowed in full soft waves almost to her hips. She often complained about how much it weighed, but he hoped she never cut it.

"I was just reading a book on the history of the Gray Wardens. But I'm never going to remember all this. There's so much I don't know, and I hate feeling like I'm constantly walking around with an expression of complete cluelessness."

He laughed. "I find all your expressions extremely pleasing, vhenan. And you do not do yourself enough credit. You have a remarkably quick mind, and managed to memorize all the words to every song that feckless bard in the tavern has ever sung. You will be fine."

"I highly doubt the lyrics to _Why Do Elves Have Pointy Ears?_ is ever going to be helpful. But thanks for the vote of confidence." She closed her eyes, soothed by his touch and the slow sound of his heartbeat in her ear.

"In any case, perhaps I can help with that somewhat. I promised to show you your memories. You knew me, in the past, somehow. I do not fully understand it, but perhaps if you view them, it will provide other helpful information."

So they went to the Fade. Solas showed Evun'ale how he had followed the silver thread of their bond into the eluvian. "However, I feel it might be dangerous to simply bring you within. Then you would likely receive all of your memories at once, which would no doubt be overwhelming, or at least confusing. A spirit has advised me that Mythal has likely set the block on your end to dissolve when you are ready. So I thought I might retrieve some of the memories and show them to you."

Evun'ale took a deep breath. She had been somewhat upset at first, when Solas had told her that he had seen her whole life and not divulged it. But now that the moment had arrived, she felt nervous. What might she see? What would it do to her? She nodded.

Solas squeezed her hand. "I will return momentarily, my heart." He disappeared through the shimmering mirror. In the Fade, it was hard to determine how much time had passed, but eventually, the mirror flared to life again, and he stepped through it, his face guarded. She could feel that he was still worried about how she would react. He could hardly imagine that she would not blame him for what she had lost, no matter the words she had said.

He took her hands in his. "Are you prepared? This first group of memories is mostly related to me. But I fear things did not go...entirely well, in the past."

Evun'ale smiled gently. "Whatever happened before doesn't matter as much as what is happening now. I will be fine." He nodded, and placed his hand to her forehead. Silvery light flowed out of him and into her, with a feeling like water rushing over her, taking her breath away. She gasped as the memories poured in, filling so many gaps in her knowledge. Yes, she had known Solas, and Thedas. She knew rather a lot about the world. But how she knew, it was both miraculous and ridiculous. Evun'ale could not help but laugh.

"I do not see anything amusing about it, vhenan," Solas said, frowning, fearing that so many new memories had indeed proved to be too much. 

She leaned against him, shaking her head. "No, it isn't that. Solas, as I said, for the past, you have nothing to apologize for. It wasn't even really you, at least I don't think so. It's so crazy, I doubt you'd believe it."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "Try to explain it, then. It certainly appeared to be me."

"It.. it was like a copy of you...A simulacrum?" she said, biting her lip. "It was a game... people in my world played it for fun. Like if you went into old memories of the Fade, but you could actually be an active participant. It wouldn't be exactly real, but to you it would almost seem as if it was."

Solas frowned. "So in your world, Thedas is...fictional. And what you knew as Solas was a character.. as in a book. Based on my history and personality, but not actually me."

"That about sums it up. I don't know how it happened though. I mean, how would anyone in my world be able to make a game based on another reality? Unless, you know, I'm in a coma and am having the best dream ever."

Solas laughed suddenly. "If this is your best dream ever, I shudder to experience your nightmares, vhenan. You would think your ideal life would be less life-threatening. In any case, the interaction of the two worlds is also puzzling to me. Everything about the Thedas of your...game is chillingly accurate. Though it does cheer me to know that it was not truly me that broke your heart so."

"I was mainly talking about you, as far as dreams go. I might be crazy, but even I don't think fighting demons is fun. However, I'm not the only person in my world whose heart was broken by a mysterious and handsome apostate. They would all be so jealous of me right now." She smiled up at him, her eyes bright with love.

Solas took her face in his hands, looking right into her pale eyes as he pressed his lips tenderly to hers. "I cannot deny that it pleases my ego to know that in another world, I have a legion of admirers, but I would choose no other for my mate."

Their kiss deepened, her hands sliding up his chest, and then he broke away with a gasp. "Ir abelas, vhenan. Once again, you have made me nearly forget what I was doing," he said with a gentle smile. "I have more memories to show you, if you are willing." His eyes grew cloudy and gray, as they did when he was troubled. "These may be a bit harder to bear. They are of the life you left behind."

"Are they frightening memories?" she asked, her breath still short from the intensity of the kiss. 

"No," he said, shaking his head regretfully. "These are happy, and therefore, the most hurtful. Yet, I feel monstrous for not showing them to you sooner."

Evun'ale nodded, touching his face in a loving caress. "Do not fear. Ar lath 'ma, Solas; I do not regret my choice.."

He swallowed, and once again pressed his hand to her brow, the silver rush of memories filling her mind. Solas was not surprised to see that her eyes had filled with tears. He held her, stroking her hair, waiting for her to push him away. "You had a family that you loved. Your daughters were beautiful, your husband was loyal and gentle. I am so sorry."

After a moment, she shook her head against his chest. "I did love them..I do...but..." She sighed and looked up at him sorrowfully. "Does it make me a bad person to still be glad that I am here? I hope that my family is all right, that my leaving did not hurt them. But.."

She leaned her head against his chest again. "But.. Solas prodded, barely daring to breathe.

"All I can think, past my guilt and regret, is of how much I want a family. With you. Not my old one back. I loved being a mother, but my girls, they didn't need me, not really. They have plenty of people who love them. I want to give you the same joy."

For a long moment, Solas stood stunned. It was definitely not the reaction he had expected, and it made his heart feel so full he could not speak. 

"Vhenan," he finally choked out, crushing her against his chest in the intensity of his emotions. They stood in the embrace for a long moment, their shared feelings of love and surprise and joy swirling around the both of them. Finally, Solas kissed her brow, tears shining in his eyes.

"I promise, once the world is no longer in danger of falling apart at any moment, I will give it to you. If you wish to live in the middle of nowhere and repopulate the world, as you so wonderfully put it, that is what we will do." He could hardly believe his own words, yet he meant every one, and he smiled with true joy in his eyes.

She looked up at him, surprised. "What about the Elvhen? I know you dream of seeing them restored. I don't want you to give up."

He shook his head. "I will not abandon the People. But you are more important. You have given everything to help me, to save me from my own pride. The least I can do is bring you whatever joy I am able. Besides, I cannot deny that the idea pleases me enormously." Solas's eyes burned suddenly with desire. "If it would not be so profoundly foolish, I would wish to see your belly swollen with my child already. I can only imagine the angry lectures we would get."

Evun'ale laughed. "Josephine would have a kitten. And Cassandra..." she shook her head in dismay. "After how she reacted to the news of Hawke, I'd like to never ever make her that angry."

Solas laughed, nodding in agreement. "Let us endeavor not to provoke her then. Come," he said, taking her hand and leading her on the familiar path that appeared. It was a place from the game in her world, where that Solas had removed the vallaslin from the Inquisitor and broken her heart. "You must tell me more of your world. It is very curious. And I, I will try to learn from the grievous mistakes of my simulacrum."


	18. Ends and Means

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition goes to Crestwood. The shocking actions of the mayor force Solas to re-examine his own decisions.

Now that at least part of her memories had been retrieved, Evun'ale knew quite a bit about Thedas. History and culture, the past, and the future, things about her companions that they didn't know themselves. And she had a feeling that there was more information that her brain had yet to process. She wasn't sure what to do about it. If she told people what was going to happen, would it change anything for the better? It might make it worse.

She discussed it with Solas and he was just as conflicted. "According to your recollections, we have already deviated from the path somewhat. It is difficult to predict what revealing the future will do. Perhaps it would be better to react to things as they occur."

"Maybe," she had replied with a frown. "There is one thing though. Your friend Wisdom..." Solas looked at Evun'ale sharply, surprised. He had never spoken to her about his oldest and dearest friend. There was a part of him that was concerned that if the two ever met they would become some sort of unstoppable force.

"I did not know you were aware of her, although I suppose I should have. Did something happen to Wisdom?"

"Idiot mages bind her to protect them from bandits. I'm sure you can guess how well that goes..."

There was sharp and sorrowful intake of breath from Solas. "No.. that.. is terrible. We cannot allow that to happen if there is any way to prevent it." His face was fiercely determined.

"Yes, but I don't know how. The mages are in the Exalted Plains, and that's all I know about them. In the game, you usually kill them, unless a friendly Inquisitor stops you and then they just run off. Of course, I never let you kill them."

He looked up at her then, his gaze piercing. "Why not? Surely men like that deserve punishment."

Evun'ale took his hand in one of her own, and cupped his cheek with the other. "Because vengeance is not justice, my love. And I never wished for you to lessen yourself in that way."

Solas leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her and resting his cheek on her hair. "I should have guessed that even when I was not real, you would try to make me a better man than I am. Thank you, vhenan."

She smiled up at him, planting a gentle kiss above his collar. "You are a good man already, Solas. But sometimes you forget."

He took a deep sighing breath. "I will warn Wisdom. But you are right, there may be little we can do to prevent this. All spirits are endangered by summoning and bindings, and it is only the fact that Wisdom is powerful but not particularly well known that has kept her safe this long."

********

Since Cassandra and Varric were not currently on the best of terms, Evun'ale brought Blackwall and Varric with Solas to Crestwood. Yes, both she and Solas now knew that Blackwall was not actually a Gray Warden, but he did know a lot about them, which might prove helpful.

"I had wondered when I did not sense the corruption within him," Solas had said thoughtfully, when Evun'ale told him, "But I was frankly so relieved that I thought no further about it. The Blight is a poison. No matter how powerful the draught, drinking from such cup is beyond foolish."

Finally, they arrived at the edge of the beleaguered town, Harding meeting them at the first encampment, as usual. "Welcome to Crestwood, Inquisitor," she said with false cheer. "If hordes of undead is your idea of fun, then this is your ideal vacation spot."

"What happened here, exactly?" she asked the scout, squinting through the rain. "I mean, undead don't usually attack towns in force."

"Crestwood was nearly wiped out by the Fifth Blight. Apparently, the dam broke, drowning half the town along with the darkspawn. I'm sure the town was grateful at the time, but now look." Harding pointed out to the lake and everyone's eyes followed.

"Is there a rift.. in the water?" Evun'ale asked, surprised. "How are we going to close that?"

Solas peered out at it, frowning. "Perhaps we can drain the lake? The dam is at least still present. If the damage is not significant, maybe the Inquisition can repair it."

"I hope you can do something for them," Harding replied. "The people here have been through enough."

They made their way down the road, killing a few skeletons and animated corpses before running into a couple of Gray Wardens standing at an intersection. 

Apparently, they were looking for Stroud. He was wanted for treason against the Order. "Why don't you help the people here?" Evun'ale said, frustrated by their nonchalant attitude.

"Wish we could, Inquisitor. But our orders are clear. If we can't find Stroud, we have to move on."

"Ugh," Evun'ale said as she stomped past the Wardens. "I thought they were supposed to protect people. Those two were just standing around. And what's this business about Stroud being a criminal?"

"It was shameful behavior. Helping these people should come before whatever grievance they have against another Warden," Blackwall agreed. "Hawke said he was investigating corruption. Maybe someone didn't like what he found."

"Even institutions with noble goals eventually fall prey to their own power. It is an unfortunate scenario that has been replayed throughout history. I have never seen a powerful group that did not eventually become corrupted," Solas said with a sad sigh.

The town was a terribly depressing place. Gray with rain, and full of abandoned houses and hopeless faces. After convincing a young elf to join the Inquisition rather than the Wardens, they found the mayor's house.

He seemed oddly reluctant to tell them where the dam controls were, explaining that they had been destroyed by darkspawn ten years previously. "There is a rift under the water. That's what's causing the undead. We can't close the rift until the lake is empty," Evun'ale said firmly, annoyed by the man's bizarre reticence.

"All right," the mayor replied with a sigh of defeat. "The controls are in Caer Bronach, a fort up the hill. But it's infested with bandits. You'll never get to them."

Evun'ale snorted. Unless the bandits were backed up by a squad of ogres, she doubted there was anything to worry about. 

They left the mayor's house and started toward the fort. "The mayor was certainly acting oddly," Solas said with a thoughtful expression.

"The stench of guilt in that house was so thick, I could have written my name in it," Varric said, shaking his head.

"You think the mayor flooded the town?" Blackwall said, incredulous. 

"Or he knows who did. Otherwise, why would he be so afraid of us heading out to the dam?"

Solas raised his eyebrows at Varric. "Once again, you prove adept at reading the emotions of others. We will see once we get to the fort, but I do not doubt that you are correct."

They reached Caer Bronach quickly after a few more side trips. It was surprisingly well fortified, for bandits. 

"There are archers on the walls. We will need to take care when assaulting the door," Solas said, his eyes narrowing in consideration.

"Okay," Evun'ale said after a moment of thought. "Varric and I will take care of the archers. You guys deal with the door. I hear wood doesn't stand against ice very well," she added with a grin at her lover.

And it was done. Soon they were charging into the fort. Solas conjured a barrier around all of them while Evun'ale sent vines to trip, block, and poison their foes. She had also figured out how to use her water abilities to blur the images of herself and her allies, making them harder to hit. They made their way through the castle, up to the very top, where a man with a very big hammer was waiting to pound them all into jelly.

Evun'ale was feeling short on mana. Plus, the bandit leader was annoyingly intent on hitting her with his dratted maul no matter how many times she backed away. With a flash of inspiration, she picked up a couple of daggers from a fallen foe. In her long ago life, she had always played a rogue. It wasn't the same as real training, but in a pinch..

She darted around to the back of the warrior and, with a leaping strike, jabbed her blade under his right arm. _I can''t believe that worked_ He howled in pain, spinning around to face her, dropping the hammer and lunging at her with his massive fist. Her magic reacted instinctively even as Solas cried out in alarm. Evun'ale felt an alarming sensation of her body dissolving. And suddenly, she was behind the man again, unharmed. 

Luckily, she was startled less than the warrior was. Her next strike hit him in the back of the neck and he was killed instantly, crumpling to the ground as a pool of blood started to form under him.

Evun'ale looked away from her handiwork. It had been necessary, but that didn't mean she had to like it. Still, the battle had been exhilarating, and she panted, hands on her knees as Solas and Varric ran over to her and Blackwall, who was cleaning blood off his sword.

"What was that, Moonbright? I thought you were a mage?" Varric said with a frown.

"That was remarkable. Unforgivably reckless, but still remarkable," Solas said, enfolding her in his arms.

She smiled. "You know I live to keep you on your toes. But I don't even know what happened. I mean, I was getting low on magic and was frustrated at how little damage I was doing, so that's why I picked up the knives, but when he was going to hit me, I was sure I was going to end up with a headache, at the very least."

"I hardly know how to describe it. For a moment it seemed... As though you became water," Solas said, his voice hesitant in his shock. "Your form wavered and then...dissolved. Not as though you had disappeared, but as if you melted. It happened very quickly, but for a moment I could not breathe for fear. Then, you reformed behind him."

"It was the weirdest shit I've ever seen," Varric agreed. "And I've seen some strange magic in my day. But, Andraste's tits, you were pretty good with those knives too. I think you ought to start taking lessons with Cole."

"Thanks, Varric," Evun'ale said with a grin. "But let's find those dam controls."

The controls were surprisingly intact for having supposedly been destroyed by the darkspawn. "It is clear that Varric's deductions were correct," Solas said grimly. "If he did not flood the valley himself, he likely paid someone to have it done. I would not doubt that he paid the bandits to inhabit the keep as well, just to keep anyone from discovering his duplicity."

"Why would he drown his own people though? He didn't seem that heartless," Evun'ale wondered aloud.

"Perhaps he believed it was the only way to save the town," Solas said, a strange hitch in his voice. Evun'ale was surprised by the feelings of guilt and sadness she felt through their bond, but she knew that now was not the right time to ask.

The lake drained, they made their way through the soggy flatlands, closing rifts, defeating yet more undead and demons. Old Crestwood was, if possible, more depressing than the rest of the town had been. Piles of skeletons lay huddled together in the houses. Soggy journals and notes spoke of the fears of the people, right before their lives ended. Evun'ale felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes when they saw a small skeleton, holding a waterlogged stuffed bear, reminding her painfully of memories of her own daughters in the life she had left behind. "How could anyone do this on purpose? There were children here."

Solas laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, unable to think of anything to say. 

A spirit of Command intercepted them in one of the houses. Apparently, the spirit was frustrated that nothing would do what it told them to. "This is not the Fade," Solas advised gently. "Things here respond to physical force rather than intent."

"What is the point in that?" the spirit replied angrily. "I refuse to leave here until something obeys my orders."

"It is likely that the spirit will return to the Fade once it's purpose has been fulfilled," he said to Evun'ale quietly.

With a suppressed grin, Evun'ale agreed to slay a rage demon in the tunnels under Crestwood on behest of the spirit. It seemed satisfied by her promise.

The tunnels themselves were a dark and sad place. It looked like the remains of some sort of mining operation that had accidentally connected with the Deep Roads. "This must be where the darkspawn emerged," Blackwall said with a frown. "But according to everything we've found, the mayor put the refugees in here. He was consigning them to death."

"A cynical but expedient way to reduce the drain on his resources," Solas said sourly. "The townspeople were likely none the wiser."

The rift was deep under Crestwood, and hosted an unpleasant number of demons. Evun'ale mostly stuck to magic, but toward the end, she brought out the daggers once more. "Something about stabbing things that are trying to kill you is just a little more satisfying," she said with a frown when they had all been dispatched. "I'm not sure I like finding that out about myself."

Solas smiled gently, brushing a sweaty strand of hair back from her forehead. "Even the gentlest spirit may find a battle thrilling in the heat of it. It is no shame to enjoy your own skill, especially when you are saving the lives of yourself and many others. As long as you never anticipate the death of another being with glee, you are in no danger of betraying your nature."

She allowed herself a moment to lean against him gratefully, the warmth of his body and familiar smell dispelling some of the cold that had lodged in her heart. "Thank you," she said softly, kissing his cheek. Varric coughed and she glared at him. "Don't get your underwear in a twist, Varric. Let's find the exit. We can tell the people that the attacks from the undead will stop. And I'd like to have a word with the mayor."

"Several," Blackwall agreed with a frown. 

*******

After appeasing Command, and informing the Chantry sister about the locations of the town's dead, they went to the Mayor's house, only to be informed that he had fled as soon as the lake was drained.

"Guess we know the truth," Varric said with a sigh. "He wouldn't have run if he wasn't guilty."

"He left a confession, in any case," Evun'ale said, sighing at the letter in her hand. "Probably afraid he'd be lynched once people found out what he'd done."

It was near sunset, but they hiked another mile to a campsite in the hills near where they'd agreed to meet Hawke. Unfortunately, they had to first clear out a group of red Templars, thereby discovering what had happened to one of Leliana's best agents. 

Finally, after the scouts cooked a meal for them, they were able to relax, shedding their bloody armor and donning clean and comfortable clothing. When Solas offered to take first watch, Varric and Blackwall went into the tent without hesitation. "I think they find our affection irritating," he said when they were gone, smiling down at Evun'ale, who was seated comfortably in his lap.

"Oh, let them grouch. They're just jealous," she said, happily snuggling against his chest with a sigh of content.

He kissed her hair, but she could feel that something was still troubling him. She looked up, touching his cheek to get his attention. "Something is bothering you. Ever since we spoke to the mayor."

He sighed regretfully. "I suppose I have only been reminded of my own failings, vhenan. We thought the mayor monstrous for the things he did. A calculating murder of innocents in order to save his people. Yet I have done the same. The loss of life at the Temple of Sacred Ashes is my fault entirely. If you had not come, there would be still more blood on my hands."

Evun'ale turned to face him. "It wasn't right. I won't pretend that it was. Though I would point out that you didn't ask Corypheus to take the orb to the Conclave, and I doubt he needed to do so. That was his choice. Once he had the orb, could you really have stopped him on your own?"

"No," he admitted. "My long slumber has diminished me. The Veil makes all magic less powerful, but it will still be years before I am as strong as I could be. Besides, it was never magic that was my primary skill."

"Really?" she asked, curious, but then she shook her head to avoid getting distracted. "What I mean to say is, despite how terrible it was, all you can do now is try to make up for your mistakes. Nobody is perfect, Solas. And if you happen to be an ancient and powerful mage, you can make more destructive mistakes than most people. It's more important to learn from them and try to do better than to beat yourself up over them."

"How does one attain so much wisdom in such a short span of years?" he asked wonderingly. "In Arlathan, you would have been hardly more than a child. Yet you shame me. Ancient as I am," he added with a reproachful frown.

"Does that make you some sort of deviant?" she asked teasingly. "Robbing the innocence of a poor child like me?"

"You are far from innocent," he said, laughing. "You kissed me first, you might recall."

Her eyes became wicked. "I'm sure it was terrible for you," she said huskily, kissing his throat as she trailed a light finger over the tip of his ears. 

Solas chuckled, shivering at her touch. "No," he replied, kissing her softly. "I was very surprised, but far from displeased. In the past, women often desired the Dread Wolf, the powerful and mysterious rebel. But none were ever interested in me, as I am. I did not wish to dally with those who only wanted the warrior. I was thought cold, and that is why they called me He Who Hunts Alone."

"Not anymore," Evun'ale said, kissing him again, grazing her teeth softly against his lower lip so that he nearly purred with pleasure.

"No. Never again," he said as he pulled her down to the ground.


	19. Folly of Desperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All right, now that this is all edited. There's fluff, there's smut, there's funny. The Inquisition meets Stroud in Crestwood. Returning to Skyhold, Solas and Evun'ale spend some quality time in the bath. Then Evun'ale talks Blackwall into helping her manipulate events so that lives may be saved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felas- slow  
> Nehn erala- sweet dreams

"Up and at 'em, ladies and gents!" came a much too cheerful voice. Solas groaned and pulled the blanket over both of their heads and Evun'ale snuggled closer to him gratefully. It might be mid-spring in Crestwood but the early morning air was still cold. 

"My sentiments exactly," Blackwall mumbled from the corner. 

"If you don't get up, I swear I will eat all of this delicious breakfast!" Hawke said gleefully from outside.

Varric laughed. "They're not stupid, Hawke. Unless you have a personal chef stored in your backpack, breakfast is porridge. Breakfast is always porridge."

"Fine. Then I'll drink all the coffee!" Hawke crowed. "Every single drop!"

Evun'ale sat up then. "You had better not, asshat! I'll make Solas freeze your balls off!" Solas was still burrowed under the blankets, but he chuckled and Evun'ale felt the familiar tingle of magic being cast.

"Hey, hey! Not funny! Future generations are at stake!" Hawke yelled from outside the tent. "The coffee is safe, just keep Iceman away from the goods!"

Everyone was nearly hysterical with laughter for several minutes. "Iceman? Why didn't I think of that?" Varric could be heard to say as the occupants of the tent started to actually get up and get dressed. 

"Did you actually try to freeze his balls?" Blackwall asked Solas as the mage finally sat up and pulled on the thin black shirt that he wore under his armor. Evun'ale liked it because it was practically skin tight and she temporarily ceased lacing her boot to watch. Somehow she never got tired of looking at him.

"No," Solas said with a slight grin, his ears reddening as he saw his lover's look of frank admiration. "I did not want to truly harm Hawke. Just startle him. However, I am afraid one of the camp stools will be frozen to ground for several hours."

Soon enough, they were off to the cave where Hawke had agreed to meet Stroud. The Warden did have an impressive mustache, Hawke had been right about that. And the news was worse than any of them could have imagined.

"All of the Wardens are hearing this...Calling? They think they're dying?" Evun'ale asked, frowning at Stroud as she tried to process the information as well as dredge up any memories she had of the situation.

"At least all of the Wardens in Ferelden and Orlais. I have heard nothing from Weisshaupt, which concerns me greatly," Stroud said as Hawke shook his head.

"Shit, this is on me. I swear the bastard was dead!" he exclaimed, stomping to the back of the cave, emitting a stream of invective that grew more creative by the minute.

Evun'ale looked to Varric with raised eyebrows. "We dealt with Corypheus before," the dwarf explained, frowning. "The Wardens called us to the Vinmarks, they've got some sort of top-secret prison there. They were keeping Corypheus locked up with a bunch of magic. Anyway, they needed Hawke because of some blood magic stuff his father had done, renewing wards or something like that."

"Why didn't you tell us this before, Varric?" Evun'ale inquired hotly. "You said you were all in. You promised me."

"Sorry, Inquisitor, but number one, this was Hawke's secret, not mine. And number two, I didn't know what to tell you. When we left the Vinmarks, Corypheus was dead. Not just, we thought he was probably dead, but no pulse, pool of blood, cut to pieces, dead. I mean, I still can't get my head around it. How could it even be the same guy? Only it must be, because the thought that there is more than one crazy darkspawn magister still trolling around Thedas is even more terrifying ."

"Whatever power allowed him survive your encounter must be the same that allowed him to survive the explosion at the Conclave," Solas said grimly. "Somehow, he has managed to make himself effectively immortal."

"Yeah, and that isn't even the worst part," Hawke said, having wandered back within hearing distance. "The reason we killed him was because of another awesome ability he has. He can control the minds of Wardens. Any Wardens. They have to be nearby, but you can see how this might be a problem."

"Shit." There was little else that Evun'ale could say in response.

"There is more," Stroud said, interrupting their impending gloom session. "I have found where the Wardens of Orlais have gone. Commander Clarel has called them all to an old Tevinter ritual tower in the Western Approach. Some sort of last ditch effort to stop the Blight. Blood magic is involved."

All at once, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place, and Evun'ale couldn't help a quiet gasp. Solas could sense the burst of enlightenment through their bond and he glanced searchingly at her. _Later_ she mouthed in his direction, and he nodded subtly. "Whatever it is they're planning, I'll bet it isn't good. Desperate people make bad decisions," Evun'ale said firmly.

"I am heading to the Western Approach now," Stroud continued. "I'll try to find out more. You all should meet me there as soon as you can. Are you coming with me, Champion?"

Hawke frowned. "I think I'll head back to Skyhold for a bit, I want to send a few letters, repair my gear, maybe even have a bath. But I'll be out there eventually, with the Inquisition or on my own."

Evun'ale nodded in agreement. "This is a problem we can't ignore. I'd like to do a few more things here in Crestwood, but we'll return to Skyhold within a week, and then make plans for stopping the Wardens."

********

After closing a few more rifts and opening a cache of loot revealed by the astrarium puzzles, they did return to Skyhold. It was near midnight when they clattered into the courtyard and all of them wearily trudged toward their own beds. Evun'ale grumbled about the number of stairs as she and Solas made their way up the tower, but ceased complaining immediately when she saw that someone had dragged a huge tub up the stairs and filled it with water. It was cold, but Solas solved that problem with a quick spell and they were soon both in the tub, Evun'ale resting against his chest as they let the heat soak away sore muscles.

"Now tell me, what is it about the Gray Wardens that has you so concerned, my heart? You have realized something important," he said, bringing his arms around her and resting his chin on the top of her head.

In the warm water and comfort of his embrace it was hard to gather her thoughts, but eventually she managed to construct something coherent. "In future Redcliffe, Fiona said that Corypheus had conquered southern Thedas with an army of demons. That's what the Wardens are doing. Summoning demons with blood magic."

"Why? Is Corypheus controlling all of their minds directly?" Solas asked, voice breathless with shock. If he had only realized the true threat the magister presented...

"No? Sort of..." she said, her brow furrowing as she pieced together her thoughts and memories. "He manipulated them to think they were dying with the false Calling. They were afraid if they all died that no one would be around to stop the Blight. Since the mages, the Templars and the Chantry were in chaos, there was no one left to turn to."

"Except Tevinter," Solas finished for her, his mind quickly picking up on the tale. "The Venatori were no doubt lying in wait for the Wardens to come begging for aid."

"Right, the Wardens figured that the only way to save the world was to go into the Deep Roads and kill the two remaining Archdemons before they all died. And of course that's just what the Venatori wanted to hear."

Solas frowned, his gaze turning steely. "A ridiculous notion. But why the demons?"

"The Venatori have convinced Clarel that demons are the perfect force for this task. Once they're bound, they never get tired, never get hungry. They don't fear death or question their orders." Evun'ale could feel Solas' rising anger through their bond, and she took his hands in her own. "I know it isn't right. People do stupid things when they're afraid."

Solas sighed. "I am partly to blame. Without the Veil, there would be more understanding between spirits and mortals. They would be seen as people rather than just a tool. But I sense there is more yet to tell," he said, squeezing her fingers in his own.

"The Wardens aren't blood mages, or in the habit of summoning demons. But the Venatori were only too happy to teach them a ritual, using the blood sacrifice of their fellow Wardens. But the spell they're using... Once the mage binds the demon, they find themselves bound, to Corypheus."

"Ah," Solas said finally, as the enormity of the problem was made clear. "So now, Corypheus is building an army of tame mages and demons, meanwhile destroying one of the main forces which might protect the people of southern Thedas. And the longer we delay, the more mages he will have bound to his service."

"That's the gist of it, yeah," Evun'ale said with a sigh. "Of course, now that I know what's going on, I can start sending forces to Adamant while we try to stop the Venatori at the ritual tower. That will hopefully prevent some deaths."

"How will you explain such foreknowledge?" Solas asked her with raised eyebrows.

"I actually have a plan, but it will have to wait until tomorrow," she said, smiling and turning to face him. "Right now, I have something different in mind." She looked up into his face, which was currently lined by his frustration and worry, his eyes dark and clouded. She cupped his face in her hands, rubbing her thumbs over the line of his cheekbones and to his temples, gently massaging at the edge of his ears. His head drooped against her own as he sighed and she ran her fingers over his scalp. He had not shaved his head in a few days and it was fuzzy with dark growth. Evun'ale wondered if he was doing that for her, or simply because they had been traveling. 

"There's nothing we can do about the Wardens right now, my heart," she said soothingly. "Now is the time to relax."

"If I relax too deeply, I fear I may drown," he said, with a chuckle. "But you are right. Worrying about the problem will solve nothing." He wrapped his arms around her back and she kissed him gently on the lips, watching them curve into a smile. 

"Perhaps we are done with the bath for now," he said, his fingers delicately tracing the line of her sternum. She chuckled, kissing his neck just below his ear before whispering into it.

"What would you rather be doing, exactly?" she breathed, her own hands making their way down the smooth skin of his chest, an answering throb against her thigh the only response she really needed. Her hand snaked lower even as Solas' lip met hers hungrily, a impassioned meshing of tongues and lips and teeth. She grasped his length with her fingers and he shuddered, growling with desire.

In one fluid motion, he stood and stepped from the tub, holding her by the knees while she held to his neck, laughing. He started toward the bed, kissing her neck. "The bed is going to get all wet," she protested.

"A little water will not harm it," he said roughly, leaning down to press her into the mattress with devouring kisses, his hands cupping her breasts as he knelt between her legs. She could feel him there, pressing against the entrance to her core teasingly as he kissed and nipped her neck and ears, his thumbs brushing the peaks of her nipples until she moaned. Wrapping her legs around his back, she pulled him toward her, running her nails over his scalp.

"So impatient, vhenan," he said, but he sucked in a gasping breath at her touch. She rolled her hips, pressing against him, and he groaned, pulling her toward him and sliding into her with a hissing sigh of pleasure. 

He leaned down to capture her mouth again as they rocked in a gentle rhythm like the rolling waves of a calm sea. She let her hands travel over him, over his cheeks and ears, over his shoulders and back, her nails scraping lightly over his smooth skin, as the familiar motion of catch and release built a thrumming tension within her, pleasure that echoed from Solas through their bond. As the sensations grew stronger, she moaned, arching her body against his and he gasped, but he pressed her wrists to the bed.

"Felas, felas, vhenan'ara," he said roughly, keeping up the achingly slow pace, until she felt like her nerves were on on fire. 

"Solas!" she cried out desperately, needing release, needing him, wrapping her legs around his waist. His teeth fastened on her neck as he thrust into her again and it was enough to bring her over the edge. She cried out, her back arching and toes curling as ecstasy rolled through her and the strength of her own climax brought Solas to a shuddering release.

He laid his head on her chest as they recovered, both of them feeling warm, sated, and lazily content. Eventually they crawled up to the pillows and pulled the covers over themselves. Evun'ale shivered.

"Now see, the blankets are all wet and cold. What am I going to do with you?" she teased.

He chuckled and pressed his hand flat against the blankets. In a moment, steam rose from them as they dried. "I would advise never trying this yourself. It was years before I could keep the fabric from catching fire."

"You seduced a lot of women in their baths, I take it?" she said playfully as she snuggled against him, reveling in the feeling of skin against skin.

"Of course not," he said in mock affront. "I enjoy swimming, that is all."

"Hmmm," she murmured skeptically, but she could think of no retort, the warmth and comfort bringing back her fatigue in full force.

"Nehn erala, 'ma lath," he whispered in her ear as her breathing slowed. He put out the candle and got back into bed, staring at Evun'ale in the moonlight, the way it made her hair shine silver, she looked more like a goddess than any of the ones who had been named as such. Not for the first time, he vowed to keep her safe as he curled himself around her once more. He needed to do more research.

******

The next morning, Evun'ale went out to the stables. Solas followed, not to interfere, but to observe, nimbly leaping to the roof of the barn from the battlements above, a touch of magic making his landing soft as a bird alighting on a nest. He peered through a crack in the shingles, feeling like a naughty child even though his love knew he was watching. 

She made a beeline for Blackwall, her hips swaying saucily. Solas knew it was not a flirtatious gesture, but a statement of confidence. "Good morning Blacwall," she said, all too sweetly.

"Inquisitor," the false Warden replied cheerfully. The man did not know his peril, and it made Solas smile to watch another about to be ensnared by Evun'ale's deceptive naivete. "I want to thank you, for finding those Warden mementos earlier. It means a lot to the Order, and to me."

"It was my pleasure, Blackwall," she answered, this smile genuine. "Whatever problems the Wardens are having now, their aims were noble and their history deserves to be remembered. But while we're speaking of favors, there is something you could do for me."

"Of course," he said. "I'll do anything I can to help." Solas almost chuckled, knowing Evun'ale would absolutely hold him to that promise. 

Her face abruptly shifted from cheerful to serious. "I know Blackwall is not your real name, and I know you aren't truly a Warden," she said, her voice firm, but not condemning.

Blackwall had gone white, and Solas thought that if the man was made of less stern stuff, he would have fainted. "But how? No one had spoken of Thom Rainier in decades."

"Does it really matter? The point is, I know the truth. I'm not angry that you hid your identity, though I might suggest that you start thinking about atoning from your actions instead of running from them. I know that your men paid the price for your lie." Solas actually felt sorry for Blackwall, knowing that Evun'ale was putting voice to every ounce of the guilt that had been eating him alive for decades. She had way of striking right at the heart of things. 

"I didn't think you were the type to resort to blackmail," Blackwall said, both sad and reproachful. "But what do you want?"

"I don't want to blackmail you, actually. I wanted you to know that there is no longer any reason to lie. At least to me. As for what I need from you, it is simple. I need you to tell the others that you've had correspondence stating that the main force of the Wardens are at Adamant."

"Why? What good could it possibly do you to lie about it? Are you now working for Corypheus?" he asked quietly, dangerously. Solas stilled, sucking in a breath. He hadn't considered that Blackwall might see this as a threat, or behave aggressively, though he should have prepared for the eventuality. But through the bond, he could sense that Evun'ale was more annoyed then frightened.

"No! Why in the freaking hell would I want to work for the asshole that nearly killed me?" she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air and pacing around in an angry circle. She took a deep breath, counted to ten. "Listen, you're just going to have to trust me. Ironic, I know. But the Wardens are at Adamant now. I know that, but I have no way to explain my knowledge. If we wait to hear the news from the field, it will delay our siege of the fortress by at least a month, resulting in an unnecessary loss of life. I am asking you to lie so that lives, and hopefully, the Gray Wardens, may be salvaged from this mess."

Blackwall stared at her for several moments, before sighing. "All right. On one condition: I'm coming with you." 

Evun'ale sighed with relief. "I would have brought you anyway. You might not have undergone the Joining, but you know more about the Order than most. With any luck, your knowledge will come in handy."

So Blackwall reported to Leliana about the Wardens building their forces. Then Evun'ale convened the War Council. It was decided that while Evun'ale, Hawke, Solas, Blackwall and Cole would leave the next day for the ritual tower in the Western approach, Leliana would send her agents in immediately, possibly trying to insinuate themselves into the caravans of troops and supplies that had to be headed to Adamant. Meanwhile, Cullen would ready the forces as Josephine used her contacts to borrow some sappers and siege engines. As impressive as the Warden fortress was, it hadn't been built to withstand modern tools of warfare. When the main force was ready to leave, Cassandra, Varric, Dorian, Sera, as well as Iron Bull and the Chargers would go with them. 

Evun'ale hoped it would be enough. She wanted to save Clarel, for one. The Warden Commander was a remarkable woman who would be a great asset to the Inquisition. And she hadn't forgotten the Nightmare. Would they still end up in the Fade? If that didn't happen naturally, they would have to do it on purpose. The Nightmare was the key to the army of demons, but she hoped that with foreknowledge, they'd be able to avoid the sacrifice the game had required.


	20. Mantle of the Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Western Approach, confronting Erimond, and Adamant Fortress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than usual. Had some personal stuff going on. Also, I know cliffhangers are touch, but this chapter was already really long. And I promise happy ending. :)

It was a long journey to the Western Approach, but Evun'ale had plenty to occupy her. Her anxieties about the mission notwithstanding, she found that her companions had apparently been conspiring behind her back. The first evening, after they had set up camp and been fed and rested, Hawke tried to stab her. Once again, her magic instinctively saved her; she became as water, and the blades passed right through.

"Motherfucker! What the actual hell?" she shouted after she recovered, rounding on Hawke, bent on vengeance, only to find him smiling. Solas stood by his side with a thoughtful expression.

"You are correct. The effect seems to be completely involuntary. But I believe she can control it, with practice," the mage said with an arched eyebrow. Only Evun'ale could feel the pride and satisfaction as well as the mischievous laughter that hid behind his studious gaze.

"What am I, a science experiment?" she said grumpily, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I am sorry, vhenan," Solas said, finally smiling as he stepped over to her and put one long arm around her shoulders. "I only wished to observe what was happening magically while you used your new ability. We needed to know whether it is something that could be trained, and refined, or if it was truly untamable."

"And?" she asked, allowing herself to relax against him. Her irritation was not so great that it couldn't be soothed by the familiar comfort of Solas's arms around her.

"Though you are certainly using the magic unconsciously now, I cannot see any reason why you would not be able to have active control over this power. Hawke, Cole, and I have been speaking about your new abilities. Even with no training, you are more natural with blades than you are with a staff. It made me think of an old Elvhen discipline. Ena'sal'in'amelan, the Arcane Warrior. They were mages that wore armor and wielded swords, but it is a skill that is not well known in these days. The Emerald Knights of Halamshiral were often trained in this art."

"I'm not sure knight really fits with my fighting style. Never mind the fact that I don't see any Emerald Knights around here to train me," she said, her tone light despite her frown.

"Perhaps not," Solas replied agreeably. "But I believe between the three of us, we will able to help you harness your gifts. I suspect that I am a passable substitute for an Emerald Knight." His eyes sparkled with humor. Evun'ale realized belatedly that she was going to get her butt kicked.

Solas showed her the new daggers that Dagna had made for her, under his direction. They were dual blade knives, shaped like eagle talons, but only one side of the hilt had a physical blade. The other side would manifest her magic. "You need only channel your mana through it, just as you would a staff."

Evun'ale looked at the daggers skeptically. "Perhaps a demonstration?" Solas said with a smile. "Blackwall has kindly agreed to spar with me."

"This wasn't my idea, Inquisitor," the warrior grumbled. "So please don't stab me if your boyfriend ends up covered in bruises."

"We'll see," Solas said coyly. "I must get my armor and then we will begin."

When Solas returned several minutes later, everyone except Evun'ale gaped. She had seen him like this before, in her other life, though she was surprised to see him wearing the ancient mail and wolf pelt so openly now. And of course, she thought he looked amazing, and he could feel her approval through their bond, which made his ears redden and his eyes sparkle.

"Where have you been hiding that stuff, Solas?" Blackwall asked incredulously. "I've never seen anything like it."

"He brings the past into the future, wearing the mantle bestowed by his enemies. Risking revelation, but for her, he will be all that he is," Cole said dreamily. Solas gave him a sharp look, but Blackwall seemed to be too busy looking at the articulation on the plate mail to notice. When the warrior actually put his finger out to touch, Solas cleared his throat.

"Everyone has things they wish to keep hidden," he said pointedly. "Let us just say that this armor is older than you are by a significant margin."

"Right, sorry," Blackwall said, standing back and blushing. "Are you ready then?"

Solas nodded, and the two men walked a few paces away to an area with mostly firm and flat ground. They had a short conversation and shook hands. Blackwall unsheathed his sword and re-balanced his shield with a shrug. Solas cast a barrier with his left hand and then pulled out a long sword hilt. As he took a fighting stance, a blade of blue-white energy sprang to life, clouds of mist forming in the air wherever the ice cold magic touched.

Hawke stepped up to referee. "All right, gents. Play nice, no murdering. Or demon-summoning, I suppose." Solas gave him an angry glare. "No offense meant," Hawke said with a wink. "One, two, three, go!"

At first, Blackwall charged Solas, swinging his blade aggressively, and the mage simply parried or dodged all his attacks. Evun'ale was not sure whether Solas was trying to get a feel for Blackwall's moves or purposely trying to annoy him. 

After a few minutes of this, Blackwall growled. "Are you just fucking with me for your own amusement?"

Solas grinned, showing his teeth. "Perhaps I am simply trying to gauge your abilities. You were so confident of them. I do not wish to be injured due to lack of caution."

Blackwall scowled and stood back. "All right, so I thought I was going to easily beat you bloody, and I was wrong. Now, can you stop playing and fight for real?"

"Very well," Solas said agreeably. "Come at me then. Do not hold back."

Blackwall lunged for him again, but this time the sword was a feint. He swerved and made to strike Solas with his shield, but the mage was no longer there. Evun'ale had seen him use Fade Step in battle before, but now it was even more effective. Solas would dart away and fling ice at Blackwall and then rush back to thrash him with the blade, every time stopping just before a truly painful blow. The warrior did not yield, trying to find a flaw in the mage's strategy. Perhaps there were ways to counter these tactics, but if there were, they were hard to see from here. There was no doubt in Evun'ale's mind that the blade was Solas's preferred weapon and that he fought with millennia of experience.

Finally when Blackwall was exhausted and dripping in sweat, and so far had not even come close to striking Solas, let alone bruising him, he held up a hand. "Maker's breath, I yield!"

Solas smiled and dismissed his blade, and brought Blackwall the skin of water that Hawke offered him.

"Why, by all that's holy, haven't you been fighting that way the whole time?" Blackwall finally said incredulously. "That was amazing."

"Thank you," Solas said simply. "But there are several reasons, the primary one being that Cassandra had already threatened to execute me as an apostate, and I did not wish to raise her suspicions. Also, impressive though it may be, it involves much more risk of personal injury on my part. Besides, half of the reason these skills are so effective is because they have been so long forgotten. All the counters have been lost. I was, as Varric would put it, keeping an ace up my sleeve." 

"That was one hell of an ace," Hawke muttered. "More like the whole royal flush."

Solas turned to Evun'ale, their bond humming with pleasure and excitement. "So now you see how magic can be wielded much more actively in battle. I can teach you how to best harness it, but Hawke and Cole will teach you what you truly need to know, dealing death with speed and stealth."

********

They trained every evening for the whole two weeks of the journey. Solas did not usually fight, but advised from the sidelines. However, he did not put his armor away. "I had not originally planned to reveal this much to anyone else, but I could not let you go into battle with only half your potential realized," he said to Evun'ale when she asked about it, one night when they lay in the tent, mercifully alone for once. "But now that my cards are laid upon the table..." he paused, his eyes fierce. "We shall see how the Wardens and their demon army fare against Fen'harel."

"Are you going to tell everyone the truth?" she asked, raising her head from his chest in surprise.

"I do not know. It seems foolish to reveal everything at this juncture because it risks damage to the Inquisition's reputation. I doubt the Dalish would deal with you, if they heard even a rumor that someone claiming to be Fen'harel was working with you. But I admit I dislike having to deceive the others, and if I were not bound by so many secrets, I would have more knowledge to share. We shall see what happens at Adamant."

But first they had to get to the western ritual tower, and the closer they came, the hotter the weather was. It was worse than the Forbidden Oasis and here there was nowhere to swim. So Evun'ale was forced to pull out the armor that Iron Bull had suggested for the four of them. 

"You have got to be kidding me," said Blackwall when she showed it to them, and the look on Solas's face mirrored the incredulous disdain in the voice of the warrior.

"It's either this, or cook yourselves," she said testily. "I'm going to wear them." She ducked into the tent, and Solas followed after her with a wicked gleam in his eye.

"Oh no, you don't! You're not going to come in here and ogle me unless you're coming to put your own on," she said, flinging his clothes at him to fend him off.

He laughed loudly, catching the wadded fabric with ease. "I will accept that bargain. Although, if Blackwall makes any smart comments, he may find himself colder than he wishes."

Changing their outfits perhaps took a bit longer than was strictly necessary, as it was far more enjoyable when a lover was aiding you, but finally they were both wearing the flowing garments. "Why do the Qunari seem to hold such little concern for their stomachs?" Solas said with an exasperated sigh. "It boggles the mind."

"I don't know," Evun'ale said, sauntering over to him with a gleam in her eye. "I could learn to like it." She ran her fingers teasingly over the bare skin of his abdomen, smiling as she saw goosebumps form in response.

He drew in a slow breath, sliding his hands around her waist. "It is a pleasing view, I admit. Perhaps you should wear this back at Skyhold. I imagine everyone would be too busy staring at you to disagree with any of your judgements."

"You mean you would be busy staring," she replied, reaching up wrap her arms around his neck and beginning to kiss him tenderly.

"It can't take this long to change clothes. What are you two doing in there?" Blackwall said grumpily. They could hear Cole's voice faintly in the background. "Never mind," Blackwall amended.

"I think our cover has been blown, vhenan'ara," Solas said breathlessly, pulling away.

"You know, sometimes I wish Cole was a little less spirit-y," Evun'ale remarked as they exited the tent. Luckily for Blackwall, he was too embarrassed to make any snide comments.

*********

Two days later, the reached the Western Approach, and after a briefing from a very sweaty Harding, they trudged through the sand to the ritual tower, where Stroud was waiting for them. "Inquisitor. I'm glad you came so quickly. They have already started the ritual, and it doesn't look good."

"Guess we'd better stop them before it gets worse," Evun'ale said, drawing her daggers. Hooked blades of teal energy formed at a thought. Solas was restricting himself to his normal support role until Adamant, both to prevent a injury that would impair him during the main battle and to make his abilities more surprising. 

He stepped back, casting a barrier over all of them. Hawke and Evun'ale led, stealthy creeping down the sides of the bridge while the others waited for a signal. _Erimond._ Evun'ale thought with a scowl. _What a snake._ She and Hawke positioned themselves behind him and then she gave Solas the signal, a concentrated burst of aggression through their bond.

Blackwall and Stroud came charging over the bridge with Cole and Solas following behind. "The Inquisition!" Erimond shouted, "Kill them!"

"Now that isn't very nice," Evun'ale said from behind him, her blade suddenly at his throat. "We only want to chat."

"You meddle in things beyond your comprehension, Inquisitor," the magister said hoarsely. "My master taught me how to deal with you." 

Evun'ale suddenly screamed as Erimond cast the sickly red magic of Corypheus and it pulled painfully on the Anchor. She dropped to the ground, and Erimond darted away, Hawke following.

Solas was kneeling at her shoulder a moment later. "Are you all right, vhenan?"

She panted heavily, pushing herself up to sitting. "I think so. Corypheus taught Erimond Blight magic. It hurt a bit."

Solas took her left hand into his own, and she could see the concern in his eyes. Evun'ale wondered if she should tell him what she knew, that the Anchor would kill her unless something was done. That he had taken her arm to save her life, before. But it was early yet, and she feared revealing too much would force him into choices that he would regret. 

"What should we do with the Wardens?" Blackwall said, shaking both of them out of their worries. Solas helped her to stand and they strode over to the group.

Evun'ale regarded the captured Wardens with pursed lips. "The mages need to be carefully examined for signs of possession." All of them knew that possessed mages would have to be killed or made Tranquil. They had neither the time nor the resources to try and fight every demon in the Fade. "Everyone else is to be treated as prisoners of war. They are all vulnerable to Corypheus."

Hawke appeared a few moments later, tired but not injured. "Bastard got away," he said grumpily. "Probably headed to Adamant."

"It's all right," Evun'ale said with a shrug. "If we had killed him now, it may have alerted Corypheus before we were ready to assault the fortress."

"There are others of the Inquisition at Griffon Wing Keep," Stroud said. "I heard they stormed the castle through an old well a few days ago."

"Ah, bless Leliana," Evun'ale said with a grin. "Let's go. Maybe there'll be a bathtub. I have sand in the worst places."

*******

Griffon Wing Keep did have a bathtub, but it also had Cassandra, Varric, Sera, Dorian, and Iron Bull. 

"Why are the four of you dressed like Antivan streetwalkers?" Dorian asked them as they strode in the gates. Cassandra and Varric both snorted.

"Laugh all you will," Solas said easily. "But I have fought in several battles today and remain perfectly comfortable." He looked pointedly at the red, sweaty faces of the others. 

"I was skeptical, but it is much cooler than regular armor," Blackwall admitted. 

"I'm impressed, Chuckles," Varric said, pacing around Solas with raised eyebrows. "Here, I thought you were a pale little bookworm, but you have more muscles than Broody-beard. Now, I know how you get Moonbright so hot and bothered."

"Even I am feeling a bit jealous," Dorian remarked playfully, as Solas turned red and scowled.

But Blackwall laughed and cuffed Solas on the shoulder. "You think that's surprising, wait until you see what he does with a sword. He knocked me on my ass."

"Now that I have to see," Varric said with a grin.

No matter how Solas glared, they wouldn't let it rest, and so he finally grudgingly agreed to a demonstration the following evening, on the condition that only the inner circle would be present. It had been decided that he would face Cassandra, after the Seeker had remarked that perhaps Blackwall was just not experienced in fighting mages one on one. Blackwall declared himself happy to let her be the one to make a fool of herself.

Evun'ale could tell by Solas's smile that he was not concerned. "You're fairly confident. Don't Seekers have special abilities against magic?" she asked.

"Are you concerned that Cassandra will truly harm me?" he asked with a gentle smile. 

"She does let her temper get the best of her, on occasion," Evun'ale admitted. "And I think she's already mad that you've been keeping secrets."

Solas nodded, but he was still smiling. "If she were a true Templar, then I might be somewhat concerned, though it would take a powerful Templar to suppress all of my magic. However, a Seeker like Cassandra does not rely on lyrium, and is most dangerous to those that do. As I do not intend to take lyrium, she will have very little advantage over any other skilled warrior. And her temper could very well prove to be her undoing."

The next evening, the inner circle gathered in the main hall of the keep, and shut the doors. No one was to disturb them, not matter what they heard.

"They probably think we're summoning our own demons to fight the Wardens now," Blackwall observed.

"I don't doubt it," Dorian said. "With a scary Tevinter magister to corrupt you all, it's only a matter of time."

Of course, Cassandra started questioning Solas before the fight even began. "Where did you get that armor, Solas? I don't understand how you even know how to use a sword. You are hiding something from me."

Solas smiled enigmatically. "I suppose your threats of execution made me cautious, Seeker. I feel I ought to have earned your trust through my actions by now. However, I will answer one question for every time you are able to strike me."

Cassandra narrowed her eyes and readied her blade. "Fine. Prepare yourself. Inquisitor, on your mark."

Evun'ale strode forward with a sigh. She could hear the others placing bets on who would win, how long it would take, and whether Solas would actually tell Cassandra anything. She shook her head and held up her hand between the two combatants. "Please don't kill each other. I will go into the Fade and find you both, and bind you to chamber pots for eternity." Solas laughed loudly but the Seeker merely scowled more fiercely. 

"Ready....Go!" Solas did not toy with Cassandra in the same way he had with Blackwall. Instead, he was just never there when she brought down her blade. He didn't bother to cast any spells other than Fade Step, and when she passed, he slapped her in the back with his blade while she charged around like an angry bull. Cassandra became frustrated very quickly.

"Stand still, will you!" she shouted. "Face me like a warrior!"

"Very well," he said quietly, as he had now Fade stepped just inches from her, her blade and shield caught together by his weapon. Cassandra strained against him, expecting that she could easily overpower him with strength alone. But he didn't even look tired. 

"She should have known he was no pushover when she saw his abs," Dorian murmured, quietly amused.

Of course, Evun'ale knew he was probably also burning mana to support his physical strength, but he didn't have to hold it for long. Suddenly he shifted his weight and swept the sword under her shield, knocking her off her feet. Cassandra landed on her face with a clang of metal and did not move.

Solas knelt, alarmed. "Cassandra, are you all right?" he asked, reaching to roll her on to her back.

"Ow," came her voice from the ground, and she pushed herself wearily up to sitting. "I think my nose is broken," she said, her voice oddly muffled as blood dripped sluggishly over her lip.

"I am truly sorry," Solas said, helping her up. "I did not mean for you to fall that hard."

Cassandra snorted, and then winced. "No, Solas, it is my own fault. I let my anger and suspicion get the better of me, as you no doubt expected I would. My trainers would have been ashamed to see it. I'll have the healer put my face back together, and then the only thing wounded will be my pride."

He chuckled. "That is a wound I have experienced far too often. It builds character, they tell me. I am sorry you will not get to know all my secrets."

"Oh, I suppose you'll tell us when you're ready. But now you will have to spar with me more often, since I know now that you are not as fragile as you pretend." The Seeker stalked off, and the others settled their bets.

"So who won the night?" Solas asked with a smile, putting his arm around Evun'ale.

"I did," Dorian said, grinning widely. "That will teach them to bet against a magister."

Evun'ale laughed, but Solas shook his head. "That was hardly sporting, Magister Pavus. You had secret information."

The others glared at Dorian. "Solas, you've got me in trouble now!" he complained.

"No one likes a cheater," Evun'ale said with a laugh as she and Solas retired to their bed, letting the others argue. 

********

More than a week later, they were finally ready to assault Adamant. Cullen and Leliana had arrived, the siege engines were steadily rolling up to the walls.

Their agents opened up the gates as the moon rose. It was eerily silent in the courtyard. Evun'ale slowed, scanning every corner. "We need to find Clarel and Erimond," she said quietly. "Any ideas?"

Solas glanced around with eyes nearly closed. "The biggest concentration of magic is in the upper bailey. That seems like the most likely location."

Evun'ale turned to the others. "Blackwall, Cole, Solas, and I will head there with Hawke and Stroud. The rest of you, start clearing the walls. Warden mages should be kept separate and guarded by Templars, but don't kill anyone who hasn't bound a demon. Hold off on sending the soldiers in until after the alarm has been raised."

With everything delegated, Evun'ale and her team crept up the stairs. She could tell through her link to Solas that he was just as uneasy about the quiet as she was. They could hear chanting around the corner. She signaled the others to wait while she and Hawke scouted ahead. They slunk around a corner and crept to a balcony where they could look down and see what was happening. 

"Erimond, do not evade my questions. I may not be a magister but I have been wielding magic since you were in diapers. Something is not right with the mages that have already done the ritual," said a woman with an Orlesian accent.

"You are worrying over nothing, Clarel. The mages are just recovering. Of course binding a demon and using blood magic is going to bother them a bit. The Chantry teachings frighten them. They'll be fine."

"And what about the Inquisition? Why are they suddenly beating down my door? Last I heard, they were fighting the Breach."

"Chantry zealots, Clarel, nothing more. They will not be able to break this fortress. It has held against an entire Blight, after all."

"Don't be so sure, Erimond. These are not mindless darkspawn. Adamant was not meant to withstand an intelligent force with siege weapons. I fear we will never reach the Deep Roads. But I am going to bed. We will do this ritual tomorrow, then, and hope it is enough." 

The Warden Commander turned toward them, making her way to the stairs. _Shit._ Evun'ale gestured to Hawke, wanting him to go after Erimond and thankfully, the Champion understood. Meanwhile, she crept up behind Clarel. Just as she came around the corner and opened her mouth to yell in surprise upon discovering the rest of their group, Evun'ale put her hand on the Commander's mouth. "I am the Inquisitor. We just want to talk." Clarel struggled, but Solas brushed a sleep spell over her eyes and she slumped forward.

"All right, Cole and Stroud, go down the stairs over there and see if Hawke needs help. I sent him after Erimond. Let's find a convenient room to wake up Clarel."

A few minutes later, they had the Warden Commander in a chair, bound with rope and magic so they could speak to her without getting fried. Solas woke her up.

"What is the meaning of this?" she yelled as soon as she was awake enough to know where she was.

"I told you we just wanted to talk. I have no wish to fight all the Wardens of Orlais, but if I have to, I'll slaughter you to the last. I know you're aware of my army out there."

"I am. And I don't know what right the Inquisition has to interfere with us. We are trying to stop the Blights for good," Clarel said defiantly, struggling uselessly against her bonds.

"It is a ridiculous notion!" Solas interjected. "You do not even know for sure that killing the Old Gods would stop the Blights. What if it makes everything worse?"

Evun'ale put a steadying hand on his shoulder and he stopped whatever he was going to say next, blowing a stream of frustrated air out of his nose. "It doesn't matter right now. The true problem is that Erimond is a tool of Corypheus, who is responsible for not only the Breach and the murder of the Divine, but also for everyone in the Order hearing the Calling," she said calmly. "I know you've noticed something different about your mages."

Clarel opened her mouth, and closed it. "Erimond said it was nothing to worry about."

"All the mages who have done the ritual act strangely because they are being controlled by Corypheus directly. He will use them and the demons to conquer southern Thedas."

"Do you have any proof of this?" the Warden Commander said, her fear making her angry and suspicious. 

"Not until Corypheus comes to break down the door. But you know in your gut something is wrong. Why would the Inquisition come here, otherwise? Why would we attack the Wardens if you you weren't endangering the entire world?"

Clarel sighed. "Erimond said it was Chantry prejudices. I... I believed him. Aren't you the Herald of Andraste?"

Evun'ale snorted. "The only Andrastian in this room is Blackwall. I'm the Herald of nobody but me. Besides, would it do you any harm to wait? I promise that it will take very little pressure to crack Erimond like an egg."

The Warden Commander hung her head. "If what you say is true, then I have destroyed the Order as surely as you would have. No one will ever trust us once they know the truth. But yes, I will order my forces to stand down, if I can."

Hawke and Stroud returned with Erimond a few moments later, Cole following along behind. Corypheus's minion was alive, barely. "We got him," Hawke said, panting and tossing the magister to the floor. "But now there's an archdemon attacking the Keep. So, there's that."

"Shit! Corypheus's pet dragon." she said. "Stroud, stay here with Clarel. We have to go after the dragon before it eats half the Inquisition!"

They began racing through the battlements, which were mercifully free of demons, following the dragon's shrieks. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, once the dragon saw them, it decided they were a much tastier target. However, it didn't seem to appreciate ice or daggers up its nose and it spouted a blast of corrupted fire at them. Everyone dove out of the way, and then Evun'ale saw another figure run up, brandishing a staff flaring with lightning. 

"I will never serve the Blight!" Clarel yelled, shooting a purple bolt of electricity right at the dragon's face. Evun'ale didn't know what possessed her to do it, but she dove at the Warden Commander just as the dragon lunged forward. Then there was nothing but pain.

This was high on Solas's list of worst moments in his life, and he had lived through many terrible events. It seemed to happen in slow motion, Evun'ale diving after Clarel, the dragon bearing down, closing its jaws on her with a sickening crunch.

"No!" he yelled as the dragon shook her like a dog with a bone and threw her over the battlements. He ran, diving head first after her, not even hearing the shouts of the others behind him, tears streaming from his eyes as the ground rushed towards them. He caught her wrist, forced power through it, the only thing that could save her. The Anchor flared to life and a rift opened beneath them with an angry rending screech. The magic of the Veil washed over and through them as he wrapped his arms around her and they fell for what seemed like an eternity that took no time at all.


	21. No Price Too High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas awakens to find an old friend waiting. He makes a bargain with Mythal for her aid. He and Evun'ale get a vacation before facing the Nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this chapter, and I might add more to the Nightmare, even though its already long. But anyway:
> 
> Mi'nas'sal'inasem, vhenan'ara, : I have missed you, my heart's desire. (Lit: I felt the knife again in my soul)  
> Ame amahn, 'ma'sal'shiral: I am here, my life's journey  
> Bellanaris, vhenan: Forever, my heart

When he awoke some time later, he had no idea where he was, blinking against too bright sunlight.

"It seems even you are not immune to the effects of physically entering the Fade, old friend. I was beginning to worry that you would never wake."

"Mythal!" Solas said, sitting up abruptly with a grimace. "Where is she? The Inquisitor... she is dying!"

Mythal laid a hand on his shoulder with a knowing smile. "Do not fear, my friend. She is stable, and resting. It was a near thing, but forcing her into the Fade turned out even better than you could have hoped. Some friends of mine managed to intercept you and bring you to a place of mine. Your love will be all right, for now."

Solas allowed himself a moment of relief before looking at Mythal sharply. "I thought you were dead. Of course, I should have known better. You have been manipulating events for some time."

Mythal grinned wryly. "I almost was dead. Just a wisp of a thing for many years, but yes, sometimes I have been obliged to steer history in the way I wished it to go."

"Why did you bring her here?" he asked her, his voice pained. "You stole her life, her memories. Now she must carry the weight of my mistakes. I cannot see what purpose it serves."

"So ungrateful," Mythal tsked. "However, you know the story better than I. If I brought her, as you seem to believe, it is something I have not yet done."

"You are suggesting that time travel is involved somehow? I do not understand. That is a dangerous and unpredictable magic. Why would you take that chance?"

"Why indeed?" she answered with raised eyebrows. "Think on it for a moment. What might have happened that would drive me to such an extreme, with your power nonetheless, as I'm sure you noticed. And why, with that power, would I have also troubled myself to retrieve your nas'falon from another world? That seems rather charitable, even for me, don't you think?" Her yellow eyes sparkled with humor.

Solas frowned in thought. "I... You must have been trying to prevent something I had done. The only reason to bring her here would be to change my behavior." He sighed heavily, covering his face with his hands. "Bringing down the Veil did not work. It must have been a disaster. And I gave you my power so that I could try again."

"That is also what I concluded. Luckily, it seems to be working so far. The world is not yet in ruins. However, there is one thing you seem to have not considered."

"Only one?" Solas asked wryly, still reeling from the revelation that he had apparently nearly destroyed the whole world trying to restore the past. 

Mythal beckoned him to follow her down a winding path, where they found Evun'ale sleeping in a secluded bower. He practically ran to her, taking her hands in his own. She was fine, just exhausted, all her injuries healed or healing, and Solas bowed his head in relief. "Thank you," he said quietly to his old friend. "I thought she was lost, and then, so would I have been."

"Undoubtedly. But don't thank me just yet, fen'falon. There is worse to come unless something is done."

"Worse than destroying the world?" he asked skeptically.

"No. I mean worse than being eaten than a dragon," Mythal replied with a bark of laughter. "She is strong, to have borne the Anchor so long, but even with your aid, it cannot last. Unless something is done, it will undoubtedly claim her life."

Solas sighed heavily. "I had hoped... But what can I do, besides take her arm once the Breach is sealed? And even that is not a guarantee. The Anchor was intended for me alone, and even with the bond we share, it is unstable."

"There is something I can give her, currently possessed by my grandson."

"Your grandson? Morrigan's child?" Solas tried to think what he knew about the woman. His agents had discovered something about her son. "Urthemiel," he said finally. "So the ritual succeeded."

"Indeed. So much power is hard for a young boy to bear. And I did not arrange for his birth only to give my daughter a powerful plaything," Mythal said with a grin. "Morrigan thought she'd outplayed me, getting the Warden to kill me, but it was all as I intended."

"I don't understand why you wanted the power of an Old God anyway," he said finally. 

"I had my reasons, but this task has proved more important. Your miscalculation in giving the orb to Corypheus has changed my plans as well. Perhaps I have grown wiser in my old age. I no longer see revenge as my primary motivation."

"It surprises me that you ever did," he said with a frown. "But you would give Evun'ale the power of Urthemiel so that she can stabilize the Anchor?"

Mythal grinned, but not kindly. "I hope that with the power of the Old God, she might even remove the Anchor entirely, putting the power back into your foci. Then perhaps you can do something constructive with it," she said rather pointedly. "But I would not do this for free."

"I thought not," Solas said grimly. "What is your price?"

"A time will come when the Inquisition will seek my temple, to prevent Corypheus from despoiling it. The Well of Sorrows lies within. Morrigan will want it for herself."

"I assume you would like for us to not interfere. A clever way to bring your daughter back to the fold," he said dryly.

"No. As amusing as it would be, Morrigan is not so useful as a tool to waste the Well upon her. I have other ways to guide her actions. But your Inquisitor has power and influence. She will benefit from the knowledge the Well contains, and I will be able to keep her on the path."

"Absolutely not," Solas replied fiercely. "Why do you think I removed her vallaslin? It was not just because I disapproved of your artistic abilities." Mythal laughed as he continued. "I would not leave her beholden, even to me, even with her consent. I certainly will not sell her to you unaware."

"You will not give her freedom for even her life? You know if she wears the Anchor too long, not even removing her arm will be enough. The rift will be in her very thoughts."

Solas looked down at Evun'ale, her beloved face peaceful in sleep. "I will drink from the Well."

"The Dread Wolf will give his own freedom to save the woman he loves? How unusual," Mythal said thoughtfully.

"She has already suffered enough on my behalf. "Besides," he said, his eyes flashing fiercely, "You may try to bind me to obedience, but that does not mean you will succeed."

"A challenge, then?" Mythal replied, laughing. "Very well. It is possible that you will not require my guidance in any case, but bound by my power or not, I will learn all that you know, and that will be sufficient. When you have returned from the Temple, I will make myself known. I will take Urthemiel from Kieran and give it to Evun'ale. Then you two can go rebuild Arlathan together." 

"We are in agreement," Solas said with a nod. They shook hands, a thread of magic between them enforcing the bargain. Then Solas sat down heavily, wondering if he had truly done the right thing.

"I will leave for the time being. Rest while you can, time will not pass in the outside world when you are in this place. When I return, I will aid you in your next task." Solas frowned, wondering exactly what Mythal meant by that. 

She smiled kindly at him now, patting his shoulder in a motherly fashion. "Do not spend your respite fretting, fen'falon. Believe it or not, I actually do have your best interests at heart. Let me tell you a secret," she said, leaning down to his ear. "I don't know how it came to pass, but I believe if you were to closely examine the Inquisitor, you would find that there is no difference between her and any other of the ancient Elvhen. You would think she too was born in Arlathan. Very interesting, isn't it?"

Mythal was gone before he could say another word. He stared at Evun'ale with wide eyes, disbelieving. Could it be true? He had not even considered it. Carefully, he extended his magical senses to her, probing the connection between her spirit and the Fade. It was whole, untarnished. He let out a long breath. However mortal she had been at her birth, Evun'ale was now, as Mythal had said, just as immortal as he. 

Solas could hardly begin to process the thoughts running through his mind, the possibility that even his wildest dreams might come true, that he would have forever with his love, no matter what might come to pass. All he knew for sure was that no matter what price it cost him in the future, he had been given a gift he could never repay.

********

It was hard to gauge how long it took for Evun'ale to awaken, although it had given Solas plenty of time to explore the little realm of the Fade that Mythal had left them in. It was a pleasant place, a small house with a library, and a large garden and a hot spring. There was a working Eluvian as well, so it was hardly a prison, but Solas could see no benefit in even trying to leave, with or without Evun'ale, since he had no way of knowing where the mirror would lead or if he could even get back. He supposed Mythal had been counting on that.

He read books, and walked, his hair grew into an unruly mop on his head, and he left it to grow. It seemed almost symbolic. From now on, there would be no pretending. He was who he was, Solas and Fen'harel, and more than both, he was hers. 

Finally, when he had began to become both concerned and restless, and he laid beside Evun'ale in a fitful sleep, he felt a touch on his cheek.

"Solas?" said her voice, hesitant and quiet. His eyes opened immediately and he rolled to face her, cupping her face in his hands, relieved beyond words.

"Where are we?" she asked, confused enough that she was torn between looking at her surroundings and allowing herself to be cradled in his arms. "Last thing I knew, I was being eaten by a dragon."

Solas chuckled weakly, pressing his forehead to hers. "Your memory is not faulty. You were, as usual, both selfless and unforgivably reckless. I thought I had lost you. The dragon tossed you over the battlements. I jumped after you, and thankfully, I was able to force the Anchor to open a rift before we hit the ground."

She smiled suddenly. "I was reckless? You jumped off a castle!"

"I could not lose you, vhenan. I would rather be eaten by Corypheus's dragon than live a moment without you."

Evun'ale could think of nothing to say to that except to wrap her arms around him and kiss him fiercely, and both of them felt tears of love and relief welling in their eyes. She cleared her throat. "So we're in the Fade? It looks rather more hospitable than I remember."

"Yes, this would be unusually pleasant for the raw Fade," he said, laughing gently. "This is a realm belonging to Mythal. She has seen fit to rescue both of us from our ill-considered actions. According to her, time will not pass in the world while we linger here, so at least we do not have worry that Corypheus is making a mess of things."

"A free vacation, courtesy of Mythal? What's the catch?" she asked, skeptical.

Solas sighed. "I should have expected that you would see the shape of things immediately. I have made a bargain with Mythal for her aid. I suspect you knew already that the Anchor will kill you if something is not done to halt its spread?"

Evun'ale nodded. "In the game, you take the Inquisitor's arm to save her life. But I was afraid to say anything so soon."

"Even that would not be a guarantee, depending on how long it took to seal the Breach and take care of the rifts. So Mythal would give you the power of Urthemiel, once she has retrieved it from Flemeth's grandson."

"Usually she gives it to you. But by that time, she's already passed Mythal to Morrigan, and Flemeth dies once her power is gone. What bargain did you make, exactly?"

"I agreed to drink from the Well of Sorrows," he said with a sigh.

"Why?" she asked, shocked and a bit upset. "That will bind you to the will of Mythal. You would never touch it before, even if it was offered."

"I know," he replied quietly. "But Mythal would have taken you instead. I thought, of the two of us, I had a better chance to resist her geas. And she was content with the chance to share my knowledge even if she cannot compel me to act on her wishes."

Evun'ale shook her head, but she knew there was nothing she could do about it. It was already done. "So what now?"

"Mythal claimed she would return and aid us with our next task, though I was perplexed what she might mean. Otherwise, it seems we have nothing to do but rest."

"I've been resting for long enough," Evun'ale said, sitting up with a groan. "I'm so stiff, I feel like I'm the one who's been asleep for a couple of thousand years."

"Perhaps you would like to take advantage of the hot spring?" Solas said, smiling gently. He took her hand as they both got out of the bed, still filled with joy and relief that she was all right. She allowed him to pull her body against his and he kissed the curve of her neck, his fingers brushing through her hair with loving reverence.

"If you'll come and keep me company," she answered warmly, brushing a hand along his cheek.

"I could hardly be persuaded to stay away."

*********  
It felt like an eternity since he had been with her, and the gentle touch of her fingers on his skin as they helped each other to undress was nearly enough to undo him completely. "Mi'nas'sal'inasem, vhenan'ara," he whispered against her lips as he pulled her against his bare chest.

Evun'ale smiled, pleased that all the Elvhen lessons had paid off so that she not only knew what Solas had said, but she could answer him.

"Ame amahn, 'ma'sal'shiral," she said, running her fingers through his wild chestnut hair with a smile, and then pressed her lips to his gently, savoring the taste of him. He gasped as her tongue traced along his lips, and he grasped the sides of her face in his hands, claiming her mouth with his own. Her fingers slid down over his shoulders and down his back as they kissed, even as he cupped her breasts, circling her nipples slowly with his thumbs, making her moan quietly.

They laid down in the soft fragrant grass, Solas kissing the hollow of her collarbone as they joined together. He groaned in pleasure at the feeling of her slick warmth grasping him tightly, and she smiled as they moved their hips together, the slow motion setting all their nerves alight as the feeling echoed along their bond. They wanted to take their time, to make each sensation linger, his mouth on her breast, her fingers trailing along the tip of his ear, fierce kisses and gentle sharpness of teeth, but it wasn't long before both of them had lost their will to control their passion and the finish was quick and wild, both of them crying out in ecstasy at the moment of climax and then collapsing in a sweaty tangle. They laid together for a long moment, Evun'ale stroking Solas's hair as he allowed himself to be soothed by the sound of her heartbeat, a cool breeze drying the sweat from their skin.

"Maybe Mythal will forget about us," Evun'ale ventured as Solas moved to lie beside her and she turned to curve herself against his body. "I wouldn't mind living here for a while."

He laughed, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long while. "I doubt she will forget, as she apparently requires our help. And it is dangerous to remain in these sort of in-between places for too long. However, once the Breach is sealed, we will have plenty of time for relaxation." His fingers brushed her cheek and he smiled. "We will have forever, in fact. Apparently, however Mythal brought you from your world has tied your spirit to the Fade, just as mine is. You are immortal, as an Elvhen born before the Veil."

Evun'ale raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "Seriously? I'm immortal? You're sure?"

He nodded. "I had never considered that it might be true until Mythal suggested it, but it only took a moment to determine."

She shook her head because it was hard to comprehend, but then she smiled. "So how do you feel about being stuck with me for eternity?"

"I would not choose any other to share my life, however long. That we will walk through the ages together is the greatest gift I can imagine."

"Bellanaris, 'ma lath," she replied kissing him fiercely before he could even reply.

They did eventually use the hot spring, which caused Evun'ale to declare that she wanted one in Skyhold, and they walked in the gardens, and slept in each other's arms, and with nothing to distract them, they loved each other thoroughly. But they were also getting restless. Despite Mythal's reassurances, it felt like the world was leaving them behind and even the Fade would not shelter them if Corypheus had his way. But they hadn't got quite desperate enough to try the eluvian before Mythal finally did show up.

"I see you are both well-rested. Good. It is time to move on. You have something important to do before you can return to the world," she said regarding the two of them with amusement. It was both strange and extremely gratifying to see Fen'harel smiling like a lovestruck teenager after ten thousand years. She couldn't help but congratulate herself on a job well done.

"What exactly do you want us to do, Evun'ale asked, not quite willing to trust Mythal completely.

"Why, I am only sending you off to do the task which you intended. The Nightmare awaits in the Fade. Killing a demon that powerful will be no easy task, but I have no doubt that the two of you will manage just fine."

Evun'ale explained the situation to Solas as the quickly donned their arms and armor. "This huge demon of Terror has been working with Corypheus. It's the one making the false Calling, and is controlling the demons that the Wardens have bound."

He nodded grimly. "Defeating this demon will strike a terrible blow against Corypheus. It will not be easy."

She nodded in agreement. "In the game, you have to leave someone behind so everyone can escape. We won't have that option."

When they were ready, Mythal sent them through the eluvian by themselves. "You do not need me. The Fade has never been my domain," she said with a pointed look at Solas.

"I fear she is overestimating my mastery of the world beyond the Veil," he said grimly. "But we shall see what we find, I suppose." They stepped through the magic portal hand in hand.

*******

Blackwall told the others the story in a wavering voice. "She shoved Clarel out of the way, standing right in the path of the dragon. And it shook her in it's jaws like a dog and threw her right over the wall. Solas ran after her, dove right over the battlements without hesitation."

Cassandra sighed. "We saw them for just a moment. A rift opened and they fell through. They can't have survived." The more the Seeker watched the Inquisitor, the less that tragic romance appealed to her. She supposed that it must be wonderful, to have a love like that, but at the same time, they didn't seem like they were going to get a happy ending.

"They went through a rift? That's something. Don't give up on them just yet, Cassandra. If anyone can survive a journey to the Fade, it is those two," Dorian said, patting the Seeker's shoulder. 

"Whatever do you mean, Dorian? Mortals cannot go into the Fade physically. Is that not what caused the Blight?"

"Perhaps," Dorian admitted. "I would have called that Chantry nonsense, until I saw an actual ancient magister turned darkspawn. However, neither Solas nor the Inquisitor are exactly ordinary." The others looked at him blankly and he sighed.

"I forget that none of you are particularly interested in history, but it seems obvious to me now. Solas is not a normal elf. He is older that every building you've ever set foot in."

"I knew he was lying to me!" Cassandra said, slapping her thighs in annoyed surprise. "But I do not see how you can know that. He hardly looks past forty."

Dorian shook his head. "I know because I have twice seen him transform into a giant six-eyed wolf. Still nothing?" he said, annoyed at the blank stares. "You are all the thickest bunch of... Never mind. Solas is Fen'harel, ancient Elvhen god of rebellion, creator of the Veil, Lord of the Fade, and all that. He'll keep the Inquisitor safe."

"Sparkles, you are full of shit. Granted, Chuckles has been full of surprises, but an ancient elf god? Why in the world would he be just hanging around with the Inquisition? That doesn't even make sense."

"Maker, I don't know. Maybe he was drawn here because of the Inquisitor. You can't deny that he clearly loves her. But I assure you it is true, and as I'm sure they will both be back soon, you can ask him yourself."

**********

This part of the Fade had proved less than pleasant. "We are closer to the Black City than even I have ever been, since it was corrupted. This a dark place," Solas said when they exited the mirror. "We should be on our guard. A demon of Fear this powerful will no doubt wish to shake our confidence."

But the first thing they met was not a demon, but a spirit. It appeared first as Divine Justinia but Solas told it there was no reason for the deception.

"So, you are Fen'harel," said the spirit, now a glowing being of light. "I heard of you from others but I do not think we have met. You have come to battle the Nightmare with the Inquisitor then? Your love burns bright between you."

"We intend to destroy the demon, yes," he replied. "Will you aid us?"

"I will. But first, you must recover memories that the Nightmare has taken."

Recovering the few memories from Evun'ale's short time at the Conclave were not too difficult, nor did they contain any startling revelations. Meanwhile, they aided a few dreamers in escaping the demon's realm, fighting off some of his lesser minions. 

"Do you have a plan?" Evun'ale asked Solas, knowing that they were getting close to the lair of the demon. They had heard it speaking to them, trying to divide them, playing on their insecurities. But the demon could not have known how the short time with Mythal had not only refreshed their bodies, but strengthened their bond. There was nothing that a demon could say that could break through it.

"I have been thinking about it. A demon this old will not be swayed to return to his original nature as a recently corrupted one might be, which is a shame. Imagine the amount of good that a spirit of Compassion could do with this much power. But with enough spirits to aid us, we may be able to cause a different transformation. I have just been trying to decide what would be the most likely to succeed. We need a powerful emotion close to Fear... fear channeled into something positive." 

"Vigilance, maybe?" Evun'ale said after a few minutes. "That's the only thing I could think of."

Solas nodded. "I agree. Vigilance will turn fears into preventative action. It is the best we can hope for. I shall call my friends to aid us."

In a moment, the white wolf had returned, even larger than the last time she had seen him. He raised his head and howled, long and loud. It was almost a song, and Evun'ale thought there must be words within it. Nothing happened at first.

But he howled again and again, and spirits began to appear. Large ones, small ones, of all different colors shapes and sizes. Most of them ignored her, but one, a slender cloud of bluish gray, approached her.

"I was hoping I would meet you one day, Inquisitor," said the spirit in a familiar voice.

"Are you Wisdom?" Evun'ale asked with a gasp. "I was hoping to meet you as well. I know you are important to Solas."

"We have been friends for many years, it is true. But now that he has you, he will be fine without me."

"You know? Did Solas tell you? I told him to warn you, but we didn't know if anything could be done to prevent it."

"He did tell me to be wary and counseled that I should stay far away from mortals for a time. But more than that, I know what you intend to do, and I fear it will not work unless many of us make a sacrifice. He will not like it, but we have already accepted this. The Nightmare has been preying on the world for far too long. You will be there to comfort him. It has given me joy to see him happy and whole."

Solas was back to himself now and he walked over to speak to them both. "I see you two are already conversing about me. Now you know why I have not introduced you before."

"Your love is a clever one, fen'falon. Make sure you take care of her," Wisdom replied, as Evun'ale was unable to say anything. What could she tell him?  
He raised his eyebrows. "Do you understand the plan, lethallin?"

"I am ready. Do not fear." Solas turned to Evun'ale and gripped her hand.

"I fear you have the most dangerous part, vhenan. You will have to fight off the smaller demons while we deal with the Nightmare. Are you prepared?"

Evun'ale nodded, drawing her daggers and casting a barrier. "Let's do this."

Evun'ale could not really see what they were doing, ass-deep in demons as she was, though out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Solas appeared to be meditating. Snatches of memories flickered around him as spirits swirled around him, a web of magic connecting them. They surrounded the Nightmare in a glowing net that seemed to draw its substance from Solas.

Then a spidery Fear demon jumped her, knocking her down, and she was too busy to watch, until there was a blinding flash of light and a thundering wave of magic. When Evun'ale picked herself up off the ground, she saw that the Fade was changed. It was still a grayish green wasteland, but it looked less frightening, more like a fortress than a haunted house. Most of the spirits were gone. They had given their lives to defeat the Nightmare. And what remained was a stout cloud of energy that vaguely resembled a warrior in armor with a massive shield. It seemed a bit confused.

Solas had collapsed on the ground, and she ran to him pulling his head into her lap. His eyes flickered open slowly. "Vhenan. Is the Nightmare gone?"

She nodded. "It looks like it worked. There's a spirit with a shield over there who seems a bit befuddled."

He sighed. "And the others?" he asked, although she could see in his eyes that he suspected the truth. She shook her head sadly in answer and tears sprang to his eyes. "I had hoped... but when Wisdom spoke, I could hear the finality in her voice." He sat up and put his arms around her and she held him as he mourned, stroking his hair.

Finally, he sighed against her shoulder. "At least they chose this sacrifice. It is better than the alternative. But now that our task is done, we should go. I do not know how time flows in this part of the Fade, so it is better if we hurry."

They stood and walked to where Vigilance still lingered. It seemed to look at them as if seeing them for the first time. "They wanted you to know that it is all right," the spirit said in a deep, calm voice. "Long you have protected them. Now I shall protect in their memory. I will keep watch."

Solas looked at the spirit in surprise, and then he smiled. "Thank you. The world can never have too many guardians, I should think."

They made their way to the rift quickly, the Anchor flashing as they near it. Evun'ale sighed in relief. "Let's get out of here."

"I never thought I would say I was happy to leave the Fade, but I will be glad for once to rejoin the real world," Solas said in agreement. Hand in hand, they pushed through the tear through the Veil and landed heavily in a fountain inside Adamant. Someone screamed.

Solas helped Evun'ale to stand and she closed the rift almost automatically. Cassandra was running up to them, her eyes bright with tears and possibly also anger.

"Inquisitor! You are alive!" she said, crushing her friend in a hug. 

"We're glad to see you too, Chuckles," Varric said, patting him on the back. "With hair even. I thought you were naturally bald. But seriously, you scared the shit out of Blackwall. And you should hear the stories Sparkles was spouting. Something about you being an ancient god." 

"I'll just be going... " Dorian said as Solas fixed an angry glare in his direction.


	22. Of a Personal Nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition leaves Adamant, and then Solas reveals his secrets to the rest of the Inner Circle, to general disbelief. With the ball at the Winter Palace approaching, major operations have been suspended, but a letter from Dorian's father sends the two of them to Redcliffe.
> 
> Lots of in-game dialogue at the end of this, mostly transitional stuff and character building. Dancing lessons next chapter though. Probably a couple companion quests, possibly a surprise. XD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Te'nuimas, vhenan. Tel'na ithas : Do not despair, my heart. They do not see you.  
> Ma serannas: Thank you  
> Avy min'as'sal'inemah na: I will miss you terribly Lit: (I will be feeling the knife again in my soul)

"I will answer every question when we return to Skyhold," Solas said in a voice that left little room for argument. "I believe we have matters to arrange here, and as the Inquisitor and I have just been battling a rather large and ancient demon, we would appreciate the chance to take a breath."

"He is right," Cassandra said, to general surprise. "Now is not the time for questions."

"You mean you aren't going to torture him for information right this minute?" Varric said incredulously. "Are you feeling all right, Seeker?"

Solas was not the only one to laugh at that, and Cassandra scowled. "Blessed Andraste! We just saw him jump to his death to save the Inquisitor's life. Even I can give him the benefit of doubt for few moments," she replied testily. "You act like I'm some sort of fanatic." Everyone decided it was better not to comment.

The first thing Evun'ale wanted to do was to see Clarel. They'd been holding her under light guard since the dragon had been driven off, which for the others had been only an hour or so ago, about the same time that the demons had all disappeared and the Warden mages who had bound them seemed to return to themselves. 

"Inquisitor? How are you alive?" the Warden-Commander asked, her voice shocked and her eyes red from tears.

"It's a long story. Let's just say it helps to have a Fadewalking boyfriend," she said with a grin. Not that boyfriend was the right word to describe her relationship with Solas, but she couldn't really think of a better one at the moment. Clarel raised her eyebrows but said nothing initially. "I've come to speak to you about the future of the Wardens."

"I figured as much. I will not argue with you, Inquisitor. We were manipulated by Erimond, but that does not excuse what we did. On my orders. No one would fault you for demanding my execution," Clarel said grimly.

"That would be a waste of your abilities," Evun'ale replied with a shake of her head. "But the Wardens will be vulnerable to corruption until Corypheus is defeated. So here's my offer. You join the Inquisition as my agent and adviser. Meanwhile, Stroud and Hawke will lead the other Wardens to Weisshaupt, so we can hopefully figure out what's going on there. That way, you're doing some good without posing so much risk to Southern Thedas."

Clarel was clearly stunned. "Of course, I will accept. I could not have hoped for better. Consider me at your service. At least until Corypheus is dealt with. He is just as much our responsibility as yours, after all."

Not everyone was thrilled with the decision, but even Solas had to admit that it was a good compromise. That done, they bid goodbye to Hawke and Stroud.

"Pleasure working with you, Inquisitor. Try and keep your mage friend from freezing anyone else's privates, will you?" Evun'ale shook his hand with a grin.

"Thanks for the training, Hawke. Try to stay out of trouble."

"Never," the Champion retorted. Stroud shook her hand too, as Hawke made his farewells to Varric. Then it was time for the Inquisition to return to Skyhold. Or at least most of it. Evun'ale decided to finish up a few things in the Western Approach and take a stop by the Forbidden Oasis to open a door or two in the temple. She brought Cassandra and Varric with her, and Solas, of course. But it only took a few days, and then they too took the long journey back home.

It had been hard for Cassandra to keep from peppering Solas with questions at every spare moment, giving the rest of the group no end of amusement. So when they finally sat around the hearth on the evening of their arrival in the keep, Cassandra let out an explosive breath.

"Finally! Solas, tell me everything! I must know, are you really the Dread Wolf? Dorian said you are ten thousand years old. That cannot be true!" Everyone laughed.

"You've been holding than in since Adamant, haven't you?" said Varric.

Solas nodded his acquiescence, but he was clearly nervous, so Evun'ale took his hand under the table. His fingers entwined with hers and she could feel a wave of love and gratitude from him as he cleared his throat. "In short, yes. It is true."

"Andraste's tits, Chuckles. I did not expect that," Varric said. "Now, I owe Dorian money."

"I told you to stop betting against me, Varric," Dorian said with a toothy grin.

"You can't just say that kind of thing and not explain it, Solas. Not that I know much about the Dalish, but I think the Dread Wolf is some sort of evil god," Blackwall said, frowning.

"Yes, Solas, you had better tell us more than that. It sounds completely ridiculous," added Cassandra.

"I could spend all night just remarking upon things the Dalish have garbled in their fumbling. However, I will explain more thoroughly. Evun'ale already knows the full tale, but since Magister Pavus has seen fit to blow my cover," he said with a scowl, "I may as well tell the rest of you. I was born in Arlathan...."

Several bottles of wine later, the tale was complete. Solas sighed. "So, there you have it. I came to help the Inquisition to atone for my miscalculations, as well as in hopes of recovering my orb. And then I met the Inquisitor, and my life and as well as my plans were dramatically altered," he said with a crooked smile. No one but Evun'ale could tell how much love and relief was carried in that statement.

"That was... illuminating," Dorian said after a moment. "I mean, obviously, I realized the Dalish mythology couldn't be the whole story, but even I am shocked by how little they have remembered."

"I still cannot believe it. It is the craziest thing I have ever heard," Cassandra said, and Evun'ale could see that she was working herself up for a good rant. But Solas stood calmly and walked into the rotunda.

"If you require more proof, you will have to come in here. I do not wish to frighten passers-by," he said with raised eyebrows. Everyone at the table got up, except Sera, who had grown bored long ago and was slumped over on the table snoring. Even Evun'ale squeezed in, just to see the looks on the others' faces. "Please do not be alarmed. I do not intend to eat anyone. Except perhaps Dorian," he said with a quirk of his eyebrows.

"It was pretty stupid to break a promise to Fen'harel, Sparkles," Varric murmured.

"He wouldn't eat me," Dorian said with false bravado. "Then he'd be in the doghouse with the Inquisitor." A flash of green light interrupted him and everyone gasped. 

Evun'ale had forgotten how large the black wolf had been. His six red eyes burned with malice, and snow white fangs like daggers were bared in a snarl. Ethereal flames of Veilfire swirled around his great paws and his growls made the stones of Skyhold shiver. Even knowing that it was Solas, most of the Inquisition was having trouble standing their ground.

"All right, Chuckles, you've made your point," Varric said weakly. It was slightly adorable that he was, perhaps unconsciously, shielding Cassandra with his body.

Solas was irritated and even a bit saddened by their unthinking fear, Evun'ale could feel it through their bond. She knew he regretted telling them the truth because he felt they would never see him quite the same.

"Look, people, this is still Solas. He isn't a monster," she said in an exasperated tone as she pushed through the others and went to him, placing her hands on the sides of his face and kissing his nose. "Te'nuimas, vhenan. Tel'na ithas," she said quietly. The black fur seemed to melt away at her words, leaving the white wolf with blue eyes. He nuzzled her cheek, and then there was another flash of light as he returned to himself, crouched in the center of the rotunda. Evun'ale helped him to stand, and he put his arm around her waist.

"Are you satisfied, Cassandra? I cannot offer you any other proof, for all the history that I remember occurred long before there were reliable human records, and Elvhenan has been lost."

"I... it is hard to comprehend. Though I don't suppose it would benefit you to lie about it. I even understand why you did not reveal the truth before. I would have thought you a madman, or executed you for your part in it, even though you offered assistance freely." She shook her head. "Let us go back to the table. I need more wine."

Everyone agreed with that sentiment and they began to filter back into the main hall, but Solas held Evun'ale back for a moment, wrapping both arms around her and pressing his brow to hers. "Ma serannas, vhenan. I do not know what I expected. I chose that form to be frightening, after all."

"You hoped they would still see you within. You'll have to give them time. I'm sure it was shocking."

"No doubt," he said, kissing her forehead. "Let us join them. I am sure they have more questions."

Cassandra and the others did seem to recover after another glass of wine. "What does this mean, then, Solas?" Cassandra asked, her words slightly slurred. "The Dalish gods were just mages. What about the Maker? If what you say is true, you ought to know better than anyone."

Solas laughed. "I have not met your Maker, if that is what you mean. However, I could not say whether or not such a being exists. Is that not the point? A true god never need prove himself? I must admit slight annoyance that the Chantry has given him credit for the Veil, as that was undoubtedly my doing. Though, I suppose I do not really consider it a triumph."

"But what will you do now?" Iron Bull asked suddenly. "You said you originally intended to destroy the Veil. I take it you have changed your mind?"

Solas squeezed Evun'ale's hand under the table. Of all those present, he trusted the Qunari spy the least, though that might have been partly to do with his personal distaste for the Qun. Still, it was a question that should be answered. "Yes. I have been shown that this world has a beauty and worth of its own. I am ashamed that I had not seen it before. So, after the Corypheus is dealt with, Evun'ale and I shall search together for a way to restore the Elvhen without such a high cost. There are already places where the Veil has naturally grown thin. Perhaps investigating those will yield results. For now, dealing with Corypheus must be the priority."

"Hmmm," Iron Bull said thoughtfully. "Well, I can hardly report this back home. They wouldn't believe me if I did. So what's next, Boss?"

"I guess we have to save Orlais from itself," she said with a grimace. "Josephine already told me that dance lessons start next week. We've got a month to prepare for the ball at the Winter Palace, but we'll have to stick around here for the most part. Quick trips only, so if you have any personal business, now is the time."

The discussion wound down quickly after that. Everyone seemed reassured that Solas wasn't going to eat them. He wasn't a deity and he didn't want worship or leadership. He didn't even want to be called Fen'harel. "Solas is, after all, my name," he said when Dorian inquired about it. "It is, perhaps, the truest name that one might have. Fortunately, or unfortunately, pride has ever been at the core of my being," he said wryly. "I cannot escape my nature any more than Cassandra can escape her faith. Fen'harel is just a mask that I may wear, but currently it has little use, other than as a tool of intimidation."

Finally, he and Evun'ale climbed back up the long stairs to their bedroom. "Mmmm. I missed this bed," she said as she flopped down on it. 

Solas chuckled as he laid down beside her. "It was a long journey from Adamant. Even with you for company, sleeping on the ground quickly loses its charm."

"The best part is, we don't have to share with anyone," she whispered in his ear. "And no one to wake us up for watches."

He turned to her with a smile as her hand slid under his shirt. "Have you been feeling lonely, vhenan'ara?" he asked, kissing her with a tender softness that nonetheless promised more.

"The Fade is nice, don't get me wrong. But there is something to be said for the delights of the physical world," she said, her voice gone low as she trailed a finger over the point of his right ear.

"Certainly," he agreed roughly, and then no more words were needed.

**********

The next morning, when Evun'ale finally persuaded herself to leave the comfort of Solas' warmth in her bed, she was intercepted by Mother Giselle as soon as she entered the main hall. "Inquisitor, may I have a word?"

"What is it?" Evun'ale asked idly, her thoughts not really on her surroundings, but in fact ruminating on the future. 

"I have news about one of your companions. The Tevinter," the Chantry mother said, her voice somewhat hesitant.

"I take it you don't like him?" 

"I admit his presence makes me uncomfortable. But my feelings are unimportant. I have received a letter from his family," said the priestess, shifting from foot to foot in unease.

"And?" Evun'ale asked with raised eyebrows. "Dorian told me he doesn't get along with his family. Why would they write you?"

"I suspect they were looking for a neutral party. House Pavus of Quarinus wrote of their estrangement from their son. They wish to arrange a meeting with him, quietly, without telling him. I believe they fear it is the only way he will agree to speak to them. Since you seem to be on good terms, I thought you might be the one to arrange it."

"What kind of meeting do they want?" Evun'ale asked skeptically.

"I think they just want to talk. They are a bit afraid of you Inquisitor, and they don't understand why he is here. They just want him to come home."

"What if Dorian doesn't agree?" Mother Giselle looked down at the ground, clearly seeing what she was aiming at. Certainly Tevinter magisters were not above kidnapping.

"Hopefully, that will be the end of it. If not, well.. that is why you should be with him."

"I'll think about it," Evun'ale replied, but she already knew exactly what she was going to do. She went up to the library with a determined expression. Dorian was, as usual, sitting by the window with a book in hand.

"Inquisitor. Fascinating discussion last night. I'm still trying to process it. But I have to say, I find it comforting to know that the destruction of Elvhen culture is not laid entirely at the feet at my ancestors," Dorian said with a friendly grin.

"I'm just glad that Cassandra didn't try to murder him. Hopefully, everyone will be able to accept him, eventually."

"People did take it surprisingly well. They may not really believe it. Solas hardly seems like an ancient rebel and trickster. More like a virgin librarian," he said with suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

Evun'ale snorted. "Hardly. But listen, I have something else to talk to you about."

"What is it? Clearly not good news. Did someone accusing me of demon summoning again?"

"No, nothing like that. I have here a letter from your father," she said, handing it to him.

"My father? What does he want?" Dorian said as he snatched the letter from her hands. "He wants to meet? Is this some sort of trap?"

"Mother Giselle says they just want to talk. But it's your choice. It wouldn't hurt to hear what he has to say, and if there's something else going on...."

"We'll be ready for it," Dorian said firmly. "Whenever you're ready, we can travel to Redcliffe."

Evun'ale went down to the rotunda to speak to Solas about it, and found him reading on the settee. He patted the seat beside him without looking up and she curled against him with a smile. "I need to go to Redcliffe with Dorian. His family wants to meet with him. Hopefully, just to talk. So, we'll be gone a couple of days. Do you want to come?"

"It is kind of you to support Dorian. I suppose you are worried his father may try something untoward? I understand they are not very tolerant to members of the nobility who do not conform."

"The thought had crossed my mind," she admitted with a scowl. 

"You are wise to be cautious. But I doubt Magister Pavus wants anyone else to interfere in his family issues. I will remain here and continue my research. Avy min'as'sal'inemah na, vhenan," he added quietly, turning to kiss her cheek.

"I'll see you tonight, though," she replied with a smile. His eyes sparkled, and their farewell kiss was full of promise.

Then she and Dorian saddled their horses and were off to the Hinterlands. They arrived around noon of the following day and went straight to the inn, which was eerily deserted.

"This is not at all comforting," Dorian said quietly, as they approached the door.

"Maybe I should go in first," Evun'ale offered. "Just in case." Dorian nodded and she pushed the door open and walked into the dim light of the inn, squinting as her eyes adjusted. It looked empty. "There's no one here," she said, turning around.

"That makes me more suspicious rather than less," Dorian said dryly, coming in behind her. Then man stepped out from the stairwell.

"Dorian?" he said, almost timidly. Evun'ale did not have to be told that this was the elder Magister Pavus. The one who was actually a magister, as Dorian had previously explained. They looked alike, although the father was not nearly as handsome as his son, and their voices were also similar.

"Father. There never was a retainer was there?" Dorian said, not seeming surprised, but obviously not happy to see his father. 

"So you were told. Sorry for the deception Inquisitor. I never intended for you to be involved."

"Of course not. Magister Pavus could never come to Skyhold, to be seen collaborating with the dreaded Inquisitor. What would people think?" Dorian said, throwing up his hands and pacing away angrily.

"If you would just listen.." his father started to say, wringing his hands.

"I prefer the company of men!" Dorian suddenly blurted out. "My father disapproves."

"I didn't realize anybody cared about that here," Evun'ale said with raised eyebrows. All in all, Thedas seemed to have surprisingly progressive sexual attitudes, especially considering the otherwise medieval atmosphere.

"In Tevinter, they do. The nobility is all about breeding the perfect mage. Perfect body, perfect mind. The perfect leader. Anything that doesn't fit in with that is seen as deviant and must be hidden." There was pain behind Dorian's words as well as anger. His father simply bowed his head.

"Soooo... This is all about your love life?" She didn't bother to hide her incredulity or the irritation she felt at the entire blasted country of Tevinter. They seemed to always be making trouble.

"That's not all it's about," Dorian said sadly, shaking his head.

"There's no need to..." began his father, but Dorian cut him off.

"This man taught me to hate blood magic. He told me it was the recourse of a weak mind. But what do you think he did first, when I wouldn't play pretend for him? When I wouldn't just shut up and marry the poor girl they had picked out for me? He tried to...change me."

"I only wanted what was best for you," Magister Pavus said, his voice roughened by pain and regret.

"You mean what was best for you! And your fucking legacy! That's all this has ever been about," he retorted, stalking away. Evun'ale could see that he was close to breaking down, years of pain that he'd held in check rushing to the surface all at once. 

She walked to stand beside him. "Listen, all of this is pretty shitty. You're not wrong to be angry. But, you'll never forgive yourself if you leave it like this."

Dorian sighed and nodded. He walked back to his father. "Just tell me why you came here. Since it apparently wasn't to kidnap me."

"If I knew I would drive you to the Inquisition.." the magister began.

Dorian shook his head. "I joined the Inquisition because it was the right thing to do. The world is falling apart, if you haven't noticed, and we are the only ones trying to put it back together. Once, I had a father who would have understood that." He turned, clearly feeling that they had little left to say.

"Once I had a son who trusted me. And I betrayed that trust," Magister Pavus began sadly. "I only came here to hear his voice. To ask him.... To forgive me." Dorian turned, his eyes lighting with surprise and hope. Evun'ale smiled and nodded, and as her friend approached his father, she saw herself out.

He returned about an hour later to the garden where she was waiting with the horses. "So, how did it go?"

"He's says we're alike. Too much pride. I... don't know how to feel about it. When I was young I would have been overjoyed, but now?" he shrugged. "Goodness knows what you must think of me after all that. Though it hardly compares to the drama in your life," he added with a laugh.

She shook her head. "I know that must have been difficult for you. It was brave of you to stand against your father."

He raised his eyebrows. "Brave? I don't know about that. Still, thank you for taking me out there. It certainly wasn't what I expected. But it was something. Now let's get back to Skyhold. I plan to drink myself into a stupor. It's been that kind of day."

Evun'ale laughed loudly at that and they rode out of town quickly, and pushed their horses a bit so that they arrived late in the night.

"I'll tell them to let you sleep in tomorrow," Dorian said with a sympathetic smile as she wearing trudged up the stairs to the keep. "Thank you again." 

She waved him off, and began the arduous trek up the stairs to her bed, groaning at her aching legs. Solas had fallen asleep in a chair before the fire. She smiled to see him there, his head drooping onto his shoulder, and a book mere moments from slipping out of his hand and onto the floor. She took it from him gently and brushed one chestnut curl from his forehead, planting a soft kiss in its place. His eyelids flickered open, his blue-gray eyes surprised. "Vhenan, I did not expect you until tomorrow."

She slid into his lap with a smile. "Disappointed are you? Tired of me already?"

He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her. "Hardly. But you startled me. For a moment I feared something had gone amiss. Or that I was still dreaming. What time is it?"

"Late, past midnight," she said with a grimace. "But we were so close to home that we decided to push on."

He kissed her cheek with a smile. "Let us retire, then. Before Josephine learns you have returned and finds something that requires your attention. She was displeased to find you absent today."


	23. Mischeif Managed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I know there was supposed to be dance lessons, but instead... Smut! I just had to put the Lover's Alcove from Val Royeaux in here. 
> 
> Anyway... The Inquisitor needs to help Josephine with her assassin problem, so they travel to Val Royeaux, for frilly cakes, sneaky Solas and more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isalan ama ara'mis: I need to sheathe my blade in you  
> E 'ma lath, ma danas em.: Oh, my love, you shatter me.

When she finally rejoined the waking world around noon the next day, Josephine was waiting for her, somewhat impatiently. "Maker, but you picked an inconvenient time to go on a trip, Inquisitor."

"I'm sorry, Josie," Evun'ale said, surprised by the Ambassador's consternation. "I had to help Dorian with something, I was only gone a couple of days.'

Josephine sighed and shook her head. "No, I apologize for my snappishness. It is only that I have had some troubling news." She sat down behind her desk with an air of desperate exhaustion, her chin in her hands, and Evun'ale sat down across from here.

"What is it? I've never seen you look so upset? Did someone declare war on us or something?"

"No, nothing like that," she said with the ghost of a smile. "It is a personal matter, I'm afraid. As I told you, the Montiliyets used to trade frequently in Orlais, but were driven out of the country. It has devastated the family's finances. We have been in debt for over a hundred years."

"Wow. I'm sorry. I had no idea things were that bad." There was no use pointing out the fact that no matter how desperate Josephine felt about her family's prospects, she was better off than most people. Like it or not, Evun'ale was now running in the circles of the rich and powerful. If she wanted them to be more concerned about the poverty of the average Thedosian, she'd probably have to do something about it herself. Which would likely involve Sera. Which was annoying. 

"It's a bit of a family secret. We've been selling off our lands to stave off creditors, but if we lose any more, we'll be destitute. As I will soon become head of our house, I've been doing my best to restore our fortunes. I had managed to negotiate papers to have our trading status in Orlais restored. But when I sent them to be filed, my messengers were killed and the documents destroyed."

"Why would anyone do that? I mean, the Montiliyets seem to be well liked, and that's a lot of trouble to go through for an insult." Evun'ale did not remember this fro before. Solas had admitted that he had only retrieved memories which seemed important. Perhaps this had happened in the game, but perhaps this was a consequence of the path they had already altered. In any case, she knew Josephine would not have told her this if she hadn't desperately needed her aid.

Josephine nodded in agreement. "Leliana made some inquiries which bore fruit. A comte in Val Royeaux claims to know who killed my messengers. He wants to meet, and he asked especially for you to attend."

"Do you think it's a trap? Or is he just looking to score political points?" Evun'ale asked with narrowed eyes.

"He claims that he just wants to be seen conferring with the Inquisitor to make his rivals jealous. But it would do no harm to be prepared for anything."

The Inquisitor nodded. "I assume you'll want to go by carriage?" Josephine was not fond of roughing it. The ambassador nodded emphatically. "Get everything arranged then. We'll leave tomorrow morning. I'll bring Cassandra, Dorian, and Solas." 

"Thank you, Inquisitor," Josephine replied, her smile suddenly sly. "I will see you tomorrow then."

***********

They got up early the next morning to find that Josephine had apparently had new clothes made for them and she wanted everyone to try them on before they left for Val Royeaux. "This is not what you will wear for the ball, of course, that will be much more involved. But these will be perfect for any other diplomatic events, including our meeting with the comte."

"Hmmm. Who is this dashing rogue that has invaded my bedroom?" Evun'ale said with a smile, grabbing the edges of the tailored leather jerkin that Solas wore over a tunic of sage green silk. It looked like someone had taken his armor and made a fancier version of it, but it was cut to show him off rather than to conceal. The contrast between the belled sleeves and the fitted leather highlighted his broad shoulders and narrow hips in a way that she found extraordinarily pleasing.

He grinned, resting his hands on her hips and planting a gentle kiss on her jaw. "He heard the Inquisitor lived here and came to rob her of her virtue. But then her beauty was so ravishing that she stole his heart instead." Evun'ale laughed at his remark as he leaned back to look over her new clothes, which were similar to his in style, but were made of leather dyed midnight blue. The silk tunic underneath was a rich aquamarine, and the Inquisition logo was emblazoned on the back in silver. 

Solas's eyes traveled down her body appraisingly. "This outfit is quite fetching. Josephine's tailor has talent. It makes clear that you have command while not detracting from your feminine beauty. Also, there are many places to conceal a weapon, which I cannot think was accidental."

"I suppose we should pack them up, then. Josephine's probably already waiting for us. I've never met someone who enjoys early morning as much as she does," she said, starting to undo the belt.

Solas's smile was predatory. "I cannot help but approve of a plan which involves so much undressing," he said, sliding her jerkin over her shoulders and kissing the hollow of her neck.

"Behave, you," she said, playfully slapping at his chest. "You'll make us late."

When they were packed and ready, they walked out to the courtyard hand in hand to find Josephine and Cassandra already there. "I am actually surprised that you two managed to get here before Dorian," the Seeker said with a raised eyebrow. 

Evun'ale ignored the jab and turned to Josephine. "The clothes were wonderful. I might have to get more from your tailor."

"Ah. I am glad you enjoyed them," the ambassador replied. "And you, Solas?"

"According to Dorian and Vivienne, I would wear a sack if it had a hole for my head," he said wryly. "However, the Inquisitor seemed to approve, so I will pronounce myself satisfied," he added with a slightly mischievous grin.

Josephine smiled, her cheeks reddening at the implication, while Cassandra snorted indelicately. Just then, Dorian walked jauntily down the steps, wearing a bright yellow tunic under his armor and something that looked to Evun'ale like a cowboy hat. "Did I hear someone talking about me?" he asked, grinning.

"Apparently, you have made your opinions regarding Solas's fashion choices known," Cassandra replied blandly.

"Well, just look at him. I mean, what is that thing? A sweater that goes down to his knees? Was that the style in ancient Arlathan, knitted and shapeless?"

Everyone but Solas was practically breathless with laughter. He regarded the Tevinter with a raised eyebrow, but the tips of his ears were slightly red. "I was trying to be practical and inconspicuous. Unlike you. What are your clothing choices intended to convey? That you are an asymmetrical streetwalking peacock?"

Everyone was doubled over with mirth by this point, except Dorian, whose mouth had dropped open in surprise. "I will have you know that this is considered the height of fashion in Tevinter. As well as unaccountably modest."

"I am sorry," Solas replied loudly. "You will have to speak up. I cannot hear you over your outfit." All of them were red-faced and nearly crying, and at this, even Dorian laughed.

"All right, boys, you're both pretty," Evun'ale said finally, wiping a tear from her eyes. "We'd better get this show on the road."

"Yes, of course," Josephine said, composing herself. "The carriages are waiting."

They needed two of them, it turned out, for the five of them plus Josephine's assistant and the piles of baggage. "Only four of us will fit in one carriage with any comfort," the ambassador said mildly, but her eyes were twinkling. "I thought the Inquisitor and Solas could ride in the rear carriage, with all of the important paperwork."

"I certainly don't want to ride with those two," Dorian said with a grin. "Worse than teenagers."

So they got in the carriage alone. "I think Josephine planned this the whole time," Evun'ale said, shaking her head as the door shut behind them.

"Perhaps this was her way of thanking you," Solas said, smiling as she curled herself against him. "It has been a while since we have had a whole day to ourselves with no duties to trouble us. Not since Mythal's realm in the Fade, and that has been nearly a month."

Evun'ale sighed, and then yawned widely. "That was pretty nice. I still say we should build a hot spring in Skyhold."

"Hmm. I shall take it under advisement for the next time I build a castle. Shall I read to you, my heart?" She nodded, and he pulled a book from his travel bag. It was one of Varric's. "Let us see what our Master Storyteller has done to earn his fame," he said, turning so that she rested on his chest with his arms around her shoulders. She sighed in contentment. 

"Hard in Hightown?" she said, reading the title as he was opening the book. "It sounds like bad porn."

Solas snorted. "I hope your suspicion proves incorrect."

*************

They arrived in Val Royeaux in the late afternoon of the following day and immediately went to an inn to change into their new clothes so they could go see the comte.

"Even I have to agree that it is an improvement over your usual outfit," Cassandra said when Solas emerged. He opened his mouth to retort, and the Inquisitor put a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's not start this again," Evun'ale said, waggling her finger at Cassandra. "Solas is perfect as he is," she said with a smile, trailing her fingers around his waist as she passed. Dorian and Cassandra rolled their eyes, but said nothing as Josephine entered.

"Are we all prepared to meet with the Comte?" she asked. The all indicated their agreement, and so they were off. The comte lived in an estate near the market and was immediately ready to meet with them. Solas, Dorian and Cassandra waited outside the door while Josephine and the Inquisitor went inside.

"Are we actually going to let them go in there alone?" Cassandra said with a frown. "I know the Inquisitor was concerned it might be a trap."

"I don't see that we have much of a choice," Dorian replied. "The comte didn't want anyone else involved."

"Hmmm," said Solas, with a roguish twinkle in his eye. "I have an idea. Follow me, if you will." He walked out onto the veranda and the other two followed with raised eyebrows. He was eyeing the balcony above, with his chin in his hand. "They are up there," he said with a grin. Then, with a careful application of magic, he jumped, catching the railing in his hand and pulling himself up in one fluid motion.

"How did he do that?" Cassandra said with a frown.

Dorian grinned. "Magic is good for things other than tossing fireballs, Cassandra. Though I've seen few that use it to enhance their physical abilities as he does. I wonder if that was common among the ancient elves." 

By this time, Solas was hanging from the balcony waiting to pull someone else up. Once all three of them were on the balcony, they crept up to the window. Then Solas cast another spell, and they all were suddenly invisible. 

"Why don't you use this spell all the time?" Cassandra whispered irritably. 

"Shh, Seeker. Just press your ear to the window. That is my foot," he said testily as she stepped on him.

When they had all arranged themselves, they could hear Evun'ale's voice. "Who ordered the contract against the Montiliyets?"

"The DuParequettes," answered a male Orlesian voice, which they assumed belonged to the Comte.

"But the DuParaquettes have not been a noble family for nearly 200 years!" Josephine protested.

"It does not matter if those who ordered it are dead. The House of Repose has a reputation to maintain. They must adhere to the terms of the contract."

"And how do you know so much about the way this secretive guild of assassins operates?" Evun'ale asked shrewdly, making Solas smile. "Was the comte even real?"

The Orlesian man chuckled. "The House of Repose must obey the contract. But we are well aware of the unusual situation. The Montiliyets are a respected family and we felt it was only fair to warn you. If you continue to attempt to restore your trading status we will be forced to take action."

"But the family still exists under the common branch... If we could have them elevated to nobility, they could have the contract canceled," Josephine said, clearly excited. 

"An interesting notion. I hope you are successful, Lady Montiliyet," the assassin said. They could hear chairs being pushed back.

"You're leaving, just like that? No one's going to have an unfortunate accident? You never answered me about the comte. What happened to him?"

"Peace, Inquisitor. I came to warn only. The Comte is real, and is merely taking a nap in his antique armoire. Will you let me pass?" There were no sounds of blades being drawn. 

Solas removed his ear from the window. "Let us withdraw before the assassin finds us spying." They all crept to the balcony and Solas dismissed the invisibility spell and leaped down to the ground.

"Solas, I am not jumping down there," Cassandra said grumpily. "It is at least ten feet."

Dorian laughed at her and jumped down himself. "I never thought I'd find something that I would brave before Cassandra, the fearless Seeker of Truth."

"I will catch you, Lady Seeker, if you are worried about hurting yourself," Solas offered.

"No, thank you, Solas," Cassandra said with a frown. "I hate heights," she grumbled before closing her eyes and jumping down with a grunt. The fake comte passed through the door a moment later followed closely by Josephine and Evun'ale.

"Concluded your secret business have you?" Dorian said with an innocent grin.

"Yes," Evun'ale replied with a suspicious frown. "Why are all of you grinning and out of breath?"

"Solas was getting us into trouble," Cassandra said archly.

"I beg your pardon?" he said, with an expression of offended innocence. "I did no such thing."

"We might have been eavesdropping on your meeting," Dorian said, laughing. "But more importantly, did you know Cassandra is afraid of heights?"

"Dorian!" the Seeker said, turning on him with a scowl as Solas laughed.

Josephine shook her head, an indulgent grin on her face. "You troublemakers can go enjoy yourselves in the market. I have to go find a locksmith."

Cassandra decided to go back to the inn, and Dorian wandered off to the shops, leaving Solas and Evun'ale to themselves again.

"Shall we pretend to be tourists?" he asked her, taking her hand in his own, sighing in contentment at the way their fingers entwined perfectly together.

"Isn't that what we are?" she said, smiling as they strolled down to the marketplace. 

"The Inquisitor is much too important to be a mere tourist," he replied easily. "Your patronage could change the life of one of these merchants. Everyone will want to buy from the same shops that you do."

She raised her eyebrows. "Then I know exactly where we should go."

A few minutes later they were seated in a cafe with a large selection of frilly cakes, Solas's eyes wide with delight.

**********

The moon rose over Val Royeaux to find Solas and Evun'ale still walking hand in hand, having enjoyed themselves thoroughly. "I still say that the white chocolate raspberry was the best of all," Solas said grandly.

"No way. Dark chocolate, peanut butter and coffee was clearly more delicious. I don't like jelly in my cake."

"You have such rich tastes, vhenan. So much chocolate makes my tongue feel like it is wearing a coat afterward." They stepped onto a terrace overlooking the the poisonous lake and wandered underneath an archway.

"What is this place?" Evun'ale asked, looking at the row of benches with a confused grin. "It looks like a bus stop." Solas raised his eyebrows questioningly, and she shook her head. "Never mind."

They walked to the plaque on the wall and Solas conjured a small ball of light. "Ah," he said in realization. "I have heard of these. It is a Lover's Alcove," he said with a devilish grin. "Of course, in Orlais, the point is more to be seen with someone in the Lover's Alcove than to actually be lovers," he added, chuckling.

"Oh, how interesting," she replied, pushing him against the wall with her hips while her hands went around the back of his neck. "So does Fen'harel wish to be seen with the Inquisitor or does the Inquisitor wish to be seen with Fen'harel, I wonder?"

"An excellent question," he said roughly. "Perhaps we should investigate further." His kiss was fierce, her mouth opening with the force of it and his tongue rubbing against hers so that she hummed with pleasure. She could feel his fingers tangling in her hair, and she nipped his lower lip, scraping it with her teeth. He growled and spun her around to press her against the cool stone, his hands already working to undo the buckle of her belt while she pushed his collar aside, leaving feather light kisses up his neck that made him shiver. 

Then Solas pushed his hands inside her jerkin and under the hem of her tunic, his fingers brushing over her stomach and up her ribs.

Evun'ale made a sound like a sighing gasp against his ear, before taking the lobe in her mouth. He groaned quietly, smothering the sound in her neck. There were voices coming toward them.

"Someone said they saw the Inquisitor and Solas walking past here," they heard Cassandra say. "But I don't see them anywhere." Solas grinned as Evun'ale put her finger to his lips.

The sound of footsteps came closer. "Perhaps they saw someone else?" That was Josephine. But Evun'ale refused to allow them spoil her fun, and she ran her fingers delicately over the points of Solas's ears, making him close his eyes in bliss, his hands slipping down her sides and into the hem of her pants.

"How many finely dressed elven couples can there be? And I'm not being rude, I'm being realistic. Orlais is more difficult for them than Ferelden, certainly."

"They obviously aren't here," Josephine said. "Let us go back to the inn. I am sure they will be along presently." Their footsteps moved away as Evun'ale ran her fingers up Solas's thighs and started to unbuckle his belt.

"You will be the death of me," he said, his voice hoarse with desire as she got her hands under his tunic and slid them up to his chest. His mouth devoured hers, his hands pushing her leather overshirt to the ground.

"As if you don't love every minute of it," she replied huskily, unlacing his breeches with deliberate slowness, feeling how much he wanted her, his manhood throbbing against her hand and straining to be free.

"Isalan ama ara'mis," he said, pulling her to a bench in the corner and spinning her by the shoulders so that she facing away from him. She chuckled, knowing what he wanted. Kneeling down, she gripped the sides of the bench as he slipped her pants over her hips and then felt him slide into her so deeply that she gasped. His hands came around her, one gripping her hip with strong fingers and one cupping her breast, kneading it's softness. Her hips rolled against him and he stifled a groan by fastening his mouth on the curve where her shoulder met her neck.

When she felt his teeth sharp against her skin, she couldn't help that she cried out, "Solas!".

He covered her mouth with his hand as he drove himself inside her. "Shhhh, vhenan'ara," he breathed in her ear, but she could tell that he close to losing his own control. His breath was ragged, almost growling with every thrust, and Evun'ale could feel her climax nearing as he pulled her down to straddle his lap, his hand now traveling down from her breast to cup the mound of her sex. Suddenly she felt his fingers circling the sensitive nub, and she whimpered into his hand, arching her back, her hips pushing against his thrust. That was his breaking point it seemed. "E 'ma lath, ma danas em," he cried out, slamming into her a final time, his fingers flexing against her as he spasmed inside her, which drove her pleasure past the point of no return. She writhed in his arms as the orgasm claimed her, finally collapsing against his chest with a satisfied sigh. 

"Vhenan, you are a bad influence. I find myself doing things I never would have considered previously," he said with a pleased chuckle, kissing her neck and trailing his fingers lightly down her ribs.

She shuddered against him, reaching back to caress his cheek. "If I am a such a bad influence, Fen'harel must not have been nearly as rebellious as advertised." She stood, wriggling back into her pants and lacing them as Solas did the same.

"My deeds have certainly grown with time," he agreed with a grin. They helped each other to make themselves presentable and walked back to the inn with smiles on their faces.

The others were sitting in the main room and Cassandra looked up at them sharply. "Where were you two? Josephine and I looked everywhere in this blasted town."

"I am sorry, Seeker. We did not see you," Solas said blandly, causing Dorian to snort into his ale.


	24. Taking Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dance lessons! Dream dancing, and young Fen'harel, and a surprise.

They returned to Skyhold the following evening and Josephine announced that tomorrow the tailors and dressmakers would be fitting them for the ball and dance lessons would begin. Attendance mandatory.

"Awww, come on, Boss. No one is going to want to dance with a scary-ass Qunari," Bull said, clearly angling to get out of having to learn to dance.

"If I have to take dance lessons, everyone does," Evun'ale said firmly, her scowl showing clearly what she thought of the idea. She was feeling tired, and Solas was worried that the demands of her position and the damage that the Anchor was undoubtedly causing were beginning to take their toll. They went to bed early. 

The next day Evun'ake was first on the schedule to be fitted for her new clothes. She slouched down the stairs to Josephine's office, the only bright spots in her mind being the fact that Josephine would undoubtedly have coffee, and the memory of the gentle smile on Solas's face as he slept. 

"Good morning, Inquisitor," Josephine said with her usual cheer. "You will be happy to know that I have ordered a special shipment of coffee beans from Tevinter. The highest quality."

Evun'ale wrinkled her nose, an odd burnt and sulfurous smell making her stomach turn. "It smells weird. Maybe later. So what kind of horrible outfit do you have planned? I hope there's no corsets."

"No," Josephine said with a laugh. "Luckily, they are not currently in fashion, especially for someone in good physical condition, as you are. We will want to highlight your natural shape, not obscure it. I think you will like the gown."

Evun'ale privately doubted that, but she allowed Josephine, and a horde of dressmaker's assistants that seemed to crawl out of the woodwork, to get her into the outfit. Finally, Josephine led her to a mirror, and she gasped.

It was a long, frilly thing, what she might have once called a 'princess dress' in deep aquamarine. The bodice portion had amazing detailed beadwork that looked like ocean waves and it hugged her hips before flaring out into a pouf of green tulle covering blue and green silk. The bottom was cut high enough to show her dainty silver slippers in the front, but trailed behind her dramatically in the back. The dress itself was sleeveless, leaving her shoulders and neck completely bare, but separate sleeves were cinched just below the cap of her shoulder, fitting her upper arms tightly before flaring out at the elbow.

"We'll have to find the right jewelry and hair accessories of course, but I think it suits you," Josephine said while Evun'ale continued to stare at this unusual and bizarrely riveting image of herself. "I cannot wait until Solas see it," the ambassador added with a girlish giggle.

"It's amazing," Evun'ale said in agreement. "Hopefully, he won't die of shock."

Josephine laughed again. "I hardly think anything could truly surprise someone who has lived so long as he. Besides, he already clearly thinks you are beautiful, so I doubt he will be as taken aback as you expect. I was more concerned that he might not allow you near anyone else. But that brings me to another question that I wanted to ask."

"What is it?" Evun'ale asked, as the gaggle of young women surrounded her, chattering in heavy Orlesian accents and making notes and coming frighteningly close to her with pins.

"When we're done. It is something best discussed in private." Evun'ale raised her eyebrows, but she let the tailors finish their work and then Josephine dismissed them for a few moments, telling them to get something from the kitchens before fetching Madame le Fer.

"So what is it, Josie? Are you afraid the Orlesians will disapprove of two elven apostates dancing?" Evun'ale said with a grin. That part of the game she did remember. As an elf magic-user, she'd be entering the court at a distinct disadvantage. 

"No. Well, yes, I am, but it is something I have already prepared for. You are an elf and a mage, and the court will just have to deal with that. And frankly, the fact that you are already in a relationship with another elf is actually likely to make them more comfortable rather than less. That is.. expected and natural to them. They will see it as a sign that you do not threaten the status-quo so much as they fear."

Evun'ale frowned, a bit annoyed to be reminded of how ridiculously racist the average noble really was. It was comforting that she need not hide her relationship with Solas, but it also rankled because she felt like she played right into the stereotypes regarding the elves. She had only lived as an elf for a half a year and she had heard her share of rude names and cold stares. For those that had lived it since birth, it must be terrible. "Then what is the matter?" she asked with a grumpy sigh.

"The business with Solas being Fen'harel. What do you think we should do about it? He seems content to ignore it, but I do not know so much about Dalish culture to guess whether it would be better to conceal it, or announce it," Josephine said, biting her lip unconsciously.

"Definitely not announce it. The Dalish hate Fen'harel. I mean, he is the reason they are mortal, but that's not even why. They blame him for taking the gods away, and see him as a betrayer, because they have forgotten the true history. Solas has already said that the Dalish would be unlikely to work with us if they knew."

"That is... unfortunate," Josephine said with a sigh. "It certainly won't help matters with humans either. Still, I feel sorry for Solas, rejected by his own people that way."

"Yeah, and I... Wait a minute." She could feel an idea forming, like a crystal of ice slowly coalescing in a pool of cold water. "What if we, surreptitiously, started spreading the truth. The real history of Fen'harel and the Evanuris."

"You mean, a propaganda campaign on his behalf?" Josephine chewed thoughtfully on the end of her quill. "Yes, that is certainly an option. Perhaps Varric can write down the story. We can have a book printed. Leave them in the alienages. And if you help the Dalish clans, who would notice if a book or two was left behind? We can send agents in too, disguised as refugee. Sometimes a tale in the tavern or at the fireside can be more effective than a tome of scholarly learning."

"Be careful with the tales around the Dalish, though. Solas has had bad experiences. Start with the more progressive clans. Lavellan near Wycombe is probably your best bet," Evun'ale said, starting to get excited. 

"Ah. We have already had some contact with them actually. Apparently, they sent a representative to the Conclave and they asked if we knew what had become of her. I was saddened to tell them that nearly everyone was killed, but I informed them that we would send them personal effects if we discovered them."

Evun'ale sighed inwardly. Where was the Lavellan that should have been in her place? Killed by the blast? Or perhaps, living her life back in her world? She hoped the latter, and that she was happy, that her family was happy and safe. Then she shook her head to clear it. "Good. I like this plan. Let's get started. Also, don't we need to do something about your assassin problem?"

"Yes, I will need to make some inquiries while we are at the Winter Palace. I will let you know if I need your assistance. Thank you again for helping me. Leliana wants to steal the contract from the House of Repose. But why take the risk, if we can do it properly?"

That did sound like Leliana. Evun'ale could hear sounds outside the door. "Looks like your next victim has arrived. I'm going to get out of here before Vivienne gives me another lecture."

"Don't forget, dance lessons start after the lunch hour. I do not want to have to send a search party for you, Inquisitor." Then she grinned knowingly. "I knew you and Solas were in that lover's alcove when Cassandra and I were looking for you. I saw his hand gripping the archway just before Cassandra turned around. I hope you enjoyed yourself."

Evun'ale turned about seven shades of crimson. "I did, thank you very much," she replied in a mortified squeak before fleeing.

************

An hour after noon, she and Solas walked hand in hand down to the large unused room in the basement. "I always meant to ask you what this room was for originally. We end up using it for storage, mostly."

He shrugged. "Much as you have, I used it for various things that required space but not a permanent location. I believe it was once quarters for war refugees, and I occasionally used it to have meetings with large numbers of people that I did not particularly want in the actual council chamber. I do not think it has ever hosted dance lessons before, however."

Evun'ale sighed heavily. "I am not looking forward to this."

"You will be fine. I have seen you in battle, graceful as a bird in flight. This is no different."

He was so wrong. The dance instructor paired her with Dorian, and she felt really sorry for her friend's toes. Cassandra and Varric spent most of their bickering until the Seeker made Vivienne switch her, pairing her with Blackwall, which went much better, as both of them enjoyed the chance to not have to speak to their partner. 

Iron Bull and Sera were having ridiculous amounts of fun, but she doubted they were learning anything about dancing. Josephine and Cullen were doing just fine, both of them likely having had training before. Solas was paired with Leiliana, and though she didn't think they said more than a few words to each other, at the same time, she felt there was some sort of battle of wits going on.

She tripped and nearly fell down, Dorian catching her by the arm. "Goodness, Inquisitor. I thought you were only out to irreparably damage my shoes, but it seems that you are also trying to commit suicide. Things aren't that bad, surely."

"Arggghhhh!" she shouted, kicking a nearby bench and then yelling louder when it hurt. "I hate dancing! I'd like to tell Empress Celene just what I think of her stupid civil war and her motherfucking ball! They can shove it right up their frilly AS-"

A hand on her shoulder stopped her mid-tirade. "Vhenan," came Solas's quiet voice. "Calm yourself. I believe the dance instructor will faint if she hears another obscenity." The woman did appear to be fanning herself rather vigorously. Sera and Iron Bull were laughing along with Varric, and Josephine and Cassandra looked displeased.

"I'm sorry. I just.. ugh. I can't seem to get this," she said, sinking down onto the bench in frustration and despair.

He smiled and took her hand. "You are overthinking it. In battle, your focus is on the enemy, the outcome, rather than what you are doing with your body. Like battle, dancing is all about instinct, unspoken language between two people." Evun'ale raised her eyebrows skeptically. 

"Allow me to show you," he said, pulling her upright. "Of course, it is easier with music."

"Maybe we should sing for you, Chuckles," Varric offered from where he stood between Vivienne and Cassandra, both of whom were frowning. 

"I doubt that any song you know would be appropriate, Master Tethras," Solas replied with a grin. "We shall have to do without." He gripped her right hand in his own and placed his left on her hip. She knew enough at least to put her left hand on his shoulder.

"Now," he said with a smile that showed his teeth, "For the mean time, do not think about which step comes next. Instead, I want you to look directly into my eyes, and feel with your body. Dance is a partnership, and since I am leading, you will take your cues from me."

"Look into your eyes, I can handle that," she said, a little breathless at the intensity of his gaze as her blue eyes met his gray ones.

"Dancing has always been very sensual," he said roughly. "There was a time when it was thought scandalously inappropriate." They began to move, and though there were a few missteps at first, she suddenly began to see, or rather feel, what he was talking about. Focusing on his eyes not only gave her something to distract from the anxiety, but if she watched carefully, she could guess where he was going to move. But more than that, his hands guided her, subtle changes in pressure on her hand and her hip sent messages that her body understood. And the more she focused on that, the smoother things seemed to go. 

The dance instructor assumed control of the lesson again, but she left Evun'ale paired with Solas, since it seemed to be working out so well. Dorian didn't look that thrilled about being partnered with Leiliana. His toes might be safer, but he was likely afraid that she would stab him if he made a mistake.

It was so much easier to dance with Solas, to not worry about doing things correctly, that Evun'ale eventually began to enjoy herself, laughing as Solas twirled her. They learned two more dances, the last which was rather athletic and had them all sweating and panting. "That's enough for the day, I think," Cullen said, wiping his brow with his sleeve.

"Yes, yes," Josephine said with a sigh. "We all have work to do, I'm sure. And we still have two weeks before the ball. I have no doubt you will all be experts by then."

***********

Evun'ale yawned widely at her desk, her head sagging onto her hand. "Did the dancing wear you out, my heart?" Solas asked from where he was reading on the couch.

She sighed and left the desk, her bare feet soft on the cool stone, and sat next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I am a little tired. Though partly it's just that these stupid treaties are ridiculously boring."

"They are that way on purpose," he said with a grin. "Legal contracts are usually dry and obtuse so that others will be discouraged from reading them."

She snorted. "I take it you have experience with it, Mr. Lord of Tricksters, or whatever it is they call you."

"Yes," he admitted. "Therefore, I will advise you to always read every contract you are going to sign. The more boring it is, the more closely you should read it. Though I suspect Josephine is fairly adept at catching obvious traps."

"That's probably good advice. Is there anything you aren't better at than me?" she said, pretending irritation.

But he frowned seriously. "Of course. You are much more gentle and compassionate than I am or ever was, less cynical, more trusting. Besides, it is hardly a fair comparison. I have had ten thousand years to perfect my skills, and you have had less than forty." He brushed a stand of hair from her face with a look of profound adoration. "When you have lived ten thousand years, I suspect you will be so marvelously talented that you surpass anything that I have accomplished."

"But you'll be that much older too. You'll probably be like... I don't even know, building a new planet for us to live on with your bare hands."  
He laughed. "Would that I could do such a thing. But I fear I have already passed the peak of my talents, unless I find a new hobby. I plan on concentrating on loving you to the best of my ability, as well as trying to find a way to restore the Elvhen people without causing suffering to this world. That should be enough to keep me occupied."

"I like the sound of that," she said, burrowing into the crook of his arm and yawning again.

"Come, let us go to bed. If you fall asleep here, you will end up with a stiff neck," he said, pulling her up by the arms as he stood. They were soon curled together under the blankets, soothed by the familiar smells and the feeling of skin against skin. Both were asleep in moments.

***********

They met in the Fade, as was their usual custom. Solas was waiting for her in a small moonlit garden; he almost always reached a deep enough sleep for dreaming before her, mostly due to years of practice. She came and sat beside him, and he put an arm around her almost automatically.

"So what lesson do you have for me today, oh master?" she said teasingly. This was normally the time he worked with her on Dreamwalking. Ever since they had been to the Fade, Solas had been keen to probe the depths of her skills at manipulating it's energies. He had explained that any sort of attempt to restore the Elvhen would certainly involve the Fade, and as such, he wanted to explore the full extent of what they might be able to accomplish together.

But tonight, he smiled gently. "I thought we might take a break from lessons. Our dance today reminded me of the balls in Arlathan that I often attended when I was young. Would you like to attend one? You might even get a chance to see how foolish I was in my youth."

"I like the idea of attending a ball where no one is looking at me," she said with a smile. 

He stood and took her hand with a courtly bow, his eyes twinkling. "Then, would you do me the honor of accompanying me, my lady?"

She allowed him to pull her to her feet and then they linked elbows. "With you, I'd go anywhere, but I don't think anyone has ever mistaken me for a lady," she said, grinning at him.

"You may not be a delicate flower, with prim manners to match," he replied, his eyes bright, "But you have handled unasked for leadership with such grace, making difficult decisions with wisdom and compassion like to which I have never seen. If anyone deserves a noble title, it is you, my love. I certainly would not trade you for any number of the fashionable and accomplished ladies of the various royal courts of the world. If you are a flower, you are something rare and wild growing in a field of nettles, and I would take the sting just to catch your scent."

Evun'ale blushed. "You should have been a poet, Solas. I can imagine you as a minstrel, singing under ladies' windows, trying to seduce them with your honeyed words."

He laughed. "I only wax poetic about you, vhenan. Now, let us see the famous ballroom of Arlathan, before the night gets away from us."

With a wave of his hand, a scene materialized before them. It was a huge open room whose floors were covered in intricate mosaics depicting the night sky. There were columns of iridescent crystal that glowed faintly like captured starlight, and above them, the room was opened to the sky. The stars were shining brilliantly overhead, seeming brighter and closer than they were in the real world, and ribbons of scintillating color snaked across the sky. It nearly took her breath away.

And yet, it was nothing compared to the people. Elves everywhere, all or nearly all of them wearing vallaslin, and dressed in the most varied outfits she had ever seen or imagined. Some looked like animals or flowers, with gowns and makeup so intricate that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. Others were wearing fantastical armor, or curtains of magic only. But there were plenty of dancers who wouldn't have looked so out of place in a fancy ball in Orlais, if it weren't for the fact that they were Elvhen.

"I feel so under-dressed," Evun'ale said finally, the only thing that she could find the words to say.

"Luckily, they are unable to see us and protest," Solas said with a chuckle. "However, that is one of the advantage of the Fade," he said with a twirl of his finger. Now, they were dressed in a fashion that would not look out of place in any royal court, her in a dramatic gown of midnight blue tulle and yellow silk, with silver accents that evoked the stars and moon, including what seemed by touch to be a tiara of filigreed silver. Solas was wearing black, gray, and gold, a loose silk tunic the color of smoke with wide sleeves cuffed tightly at the wrists, a black cape trimmed in wolf fur flowing behind him. On his head was a delicate coronet that artfully invoked a wolf.

Evun'ale grinned. "And they said you had no fashion sense."

He raised his eyebrows. "They mistake lack of interest for a lack of knowledge. I have no reason to attempt to impress anyone with my sartorial choices. And my attire is chosen for practical reasons."

"I know," she said gently. "But I have to have something to pick on you about."

"I am sure you could find many other faults to mock, if you were to put your mind to it," he said with a wry grin. "But come, let us dance." She smiled and took his hand, draping her other around the back of his neck as he locked his gaze with hers. 

They held each other more closely now, with no sensibilities to offend, their bodies brushing with ever turn. Evun'ale could now easily see how some might find dancing scandalous, the inch of distance between them was agonizing and each time his body grazed hers, it was almost an electric shock. He swung her outward, twirling her around so fast that she laughed, and then reeled her back so they were pressed close against each other, his eyes dark with desire. "Now, you see why the Chantry used to frown on dancing," he said roughly.

Her answering chuckle was low, sensuous, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, snaking one up into his hair as she kissed him long and slow. "I don't think most people dance this way in public," she whispered as they broke apart. 

"You would be surprised what you can get away with," he murmured, pressing his lips to her neck just below her ear, intentionally tickling her with his breath.

She gasped, but not because of his kiss. "There you are," she said with raised eyebrows, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

He turned to look, and saw that she was right; he could hardly believe what he was seeing either. Inwardly, he groaned at his youthful arrogance. He had been wearing a robe of brown and gold that only fastened at the throat, leaving his entire torso bare and painted with exotic swirls. His long hair was bound high on his head in a tail that flowed past his shoulders and topped with a crown made of a wolf skull and teeth. And he was wearing a loincloth, of all things. He could have cheerfully consigned himself to the Void at that moment.

Evun'ale kept her face remarkably neutral, considering. "Very fetching outfit. Clearly, you thought rather highly of yourself. I wasn't aware that it was common to attend formal events in such little clothing."

Solas sighed, covering his face with his hands. "I had a very long, very foolish, youth. If I had remembered that this was how I had dressed..."

She laughed in response, putting her arm around his waist. "It could be worse, I mean it does look good on him...you, actually. You look like a wild barbarian princeling." Her eyes sparkled with mirth. "Maybe I should go ask him to dance."

He frowned at her. "Please do not tell me you actually find that cocky idiot attractive."

"Hmmmm," she said, pretending to think about it and chuckling as his eyes flashed and he growled in irritation. "Only in that it is you, and you are always desirable to me. And I like it when you get possessive sometimes," she added with a wicked grin.

"I will not share you even with myself," he said roughly, and he kissed her so fiercely that it took her breath away.

***********

They woke late the next morning, and Evun'ale was surprised that Josephine wasn't battering down the door. Solas smiled sleepily at her as she rose and walked to find a lukewarm cup of tea on her desk. She took a sip, walking back toward the bed, but as she brought the cup to her lips again, she made a face and ran to the balcony, where she vomited onto the scenic view of the Frostbacks.

Solas went to her side, his hand on her back. "Vhenan, are you unwell?"

"I don't know. I felt fine and then the tea... " she said, shaking her head. "I feel better now. Well, better-ish. Ugh, even the smell of the tea is awful. What is up with this place? Yesterday, all the coffee smelled like burned eggs."

A horrible suspicion bloomed across Solas's face. It only took a touch of magic to check. "Fenedhis," he said. "Cassandra is going to murder me."


	25. Having a Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winter Palace Part 1.  
> Solas and Evun'ale discuss their next move in light of the discovery of her pregnancy. They head to Halam'shiral and begin searching for proof that Florianne is working for the Venatori. Mostly Solas POV, and definite canon divergence.

"You have got to be shitting me!" Evun'ale said a moment later, as Solas told her the news. He shook his head slowly, not able to find any other words at the moment. She leaned on the balcony, eyes closed and head in her hands. "I drank all that tea for nothing," she muttered.

Solas snorted despite himself and wrapped his arms around her. "It is my fault, vhenan," he said into her hair. "When we were in the Fade.. it was not like in dreams, we were truly there. I should have thought about it, but I was so relieved that you were alive, I.."

"Sshh," she said, putting her finger to his lips. "I'm a perfectly functional grown-up, too. I could have asked. There's no point in throwing blame around. What happened, happened, and now we'll deal with it together." Her gaze was fierce as she looked right into his eyes, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Do not fear," he said, kissing her cheek. "Despite your prior knowledge of my habits, I will not run out on you, my heart. Frankly, I doubt very much that I could get away, even if I wished to. The Solas in your game was not tied magically to the Inquisitor. I do not think there would be anywhere for me to hide."

"Oh good. I didn't want to have to send Leiliana after you," she replied with a weak chuckle. But the shock of the news had faded, and now a jumble of emotions were welling up within her and she clung to Solas like a lone rock in a stormy sea as she cycled through fear, love, elation, and more fear. He understood, however, and he just held her for several minutes, his lips on her hair while his fingers drew soothing patterns on her back.

Finally, she sighed. "So, now what do we do?" she asked, looking up into his eyes. He seemed startled that she had asked.

"I would not presume to tell you, vhenan. It is not my body that will be carrying the child, after all."

"That doesn't mean you don't get to have an opinion, Solas. It is our child, not just mine. And besides, I trust your judgement far more than anyone else that I might get advice from. What do you want to do?"

"What I want..." he sighed and pressed his brow to hers. "What I want is for Corypheus to be dealt with so that I can whisk you off to a secluded tower like a fairytale princess and keep you safe and loved for all time. But that is not within the realm of possibility."

"You really are terribly old-fashioned," she teased gently, brushing his cheek with her fingers.

"I am, after all, quite old," he replied with the ghost of a smile. "But we are straying from the point. I do not know what I want, in truth. Nothing makes me happier than the thought that we will have a long life together, with as many children as we could wish. And already the thought fills me with hope, of all that may be." His hand brushed her still flat stomach gingerly. "But to want this child... it seems foolish, selfish. How could I think to give you another burden, when you already carry so many?"

"I took them all willingly, 'ma lath. This one too," she said quietly, laying her hand over his on her belly. "It does seem... a little crazy," she admitted. "But neither of us can know for sure how long we'll have, what with ancient magisters trying to murder us and all that. I want to grasp at any chance of happiness I can reach."

"Live well, while time remains?" he said with raised eyebrows, and she knew he was echoing his own words from the game on purpose, using the words of his doppleganger as a form of self-mockery. But she could do him one better.

"Var lath vir suledin, after all," she replied with a smile, and he pulled her to his chest and kissed her until she was out of breath.

*************

Luckily, there was no reason to tell the news right away. She guessed that she was little more than a month along, and she had a sneaking suspicion, which Solas unfortunately confirmed, that Elvhen women had significantly longer pregnancies. "There is no way to be certain, but I would think that 18 months to two years would be a reasonable estimate."

"And I thought my other pregnancies were long," she said with weary anticipation. There was another reason not to reveal the pregnancy too soon, which they both knew, but elected not to mention aloud. Things were always touch and go this early, especially with the active and dangerous lifestyle they led. Better to wait until they were sure the baby would be all right than get everyone worked up over nothing.

Solas had to restrain himself from being over-protective. For one thing, the others were bound to suspect something was amiss if he followed the Inquisitor around like a mother hen. And, as she put it, she couldn't exactly take a break from Inquisitoring. The ball at the Winter Palace was a pivotal moment, just two weeks away, and everything had to go off without a hitch. 

Evun'ale told Solas about Florianne, but he agreed with her assessment that there was little they could do with the knowledge. "Without proof, and the favor of the court, our accusations would be meaningless. At worst, the Grand Duchess would simply change her plans and we would have no way to intervene."

"Kind of what I figured," Evun'ale said, frowning. So they did everything else they could to prepare. They ordered new weapons and armor for everyone, stocked up on potions, and worked on her fighting style as much as they could, considering the barrage of dance lessons and etiquette schooling she was getting. And Solas did his best to make sure sure she ate well and slept.

Finally, they were leaving for Halam'shiral, again by carriage. This time it took four to carry all of them, and after heated negotiations, it was decided that the Inquisitor and Solas would ride with Josephine and Dorian. Cassandra, Cullen, and Blackwall rode together with Scout Harding; Varric, Cole and Sera rode together, and Vivienne and Leiliana rode with Iron Bull. 

"Part of me wishes I could be a fly on the wall in that carriage," Solas said with raised eyebrows, indicating the way Iron Bull deferred to Vivienne and Leiliana watched with evident amusement.

"I think it's the horned hat thing," Evun'ale whispered. "Reminds him of home."

"You'll just have to make do with my charming company," Dorian remarked flippantly. "And I'll ask you two to keep your hands to yourselves during our journey. It's bad enough you shoving your love in everyone's faces with your adoring smiles and elvish endearments."

"Jealous, are you?" Evun'ale asked him teasingly as they seated themselves and the carriage started moving.

Dorian grinned. "Terribly. Although, I must say it is somewhat comforting when we are in the middle of various deadly situations to see you two making eyes at each other as if nothing at all were amiss."

Solas had reddened visibly and was pretending to be very busy looking in his bag for something while Josephine chuckled merrily at his discomfiture.

"Maybe you'll meet someone nice at the Ball," Evun'ale offered. "A dashing Orlesian noble to sweep you off your feet."

"I have a feeling I'm more likely to meet a nice assassin who will greet me with a knife to the kidney."

****************

Solas gazed at Halamshiral as one might look at a worm in a piece of fruit. _There lies the ashes of the bones of the Elvhen, and the people of Orlais dance on their graves._ he thought sourly.

It didn't help his temper that he could hear the nobles whispering about Evun'ale, calling her rabbit, and worse. He was used to it, and it had never bothered him very much. When one had lived through millennia, insults tended to slide off one's back, yet watching their sneering condescension toward his beloved rankled. He knew the extent that she sacrificed for the people of Thedas, and for him, and for them to belittle her so....

She could feel his disquiet and put her hand on his arm in reassurance as she stepped past him to speak to Grand Duke Gaspard. He was almost refreshingly slimy, though Solas could tell Evun'ale had been expecting someone more like Cullen or Blackwall, honorable but somewhat dim. However, she handled the imperial usurper adroitly with her typical wit. 

They dallied in the outer garden, Evun'ale currying favor with the court while she simultaneously ferreted out their secrets with a judicious bit of snooping. It pleased him to no end to watch her manipulate them. His heart was many things: gentle, compassionate, and honest to a fault when among her friends. But she was nothing if not clever, and the foolish nobles underestimated her at their peril.

Josephine met them in the antechamber, giving Evun'ale a final warning about the court. The ambassador was completely correct, of course, the Orlesian Game was a nest of vipers, but Solas did not particularly care if they impressed the nobility or not. He was more concerned for the Inquisitor's personal safety, even without the added worry that the pregnancy presented. That, he tried not to even think about. Until they were safely home in Skyhold, they could hardly afford to consider it, though he could hardly help it.

More mingling, more snooping, and it was time to be presented to the court. They had a minor argument about it this morning.

"Josephine, tell me you aren't going to let them introduce Solas as my elven serving man?" Evun'ale had said irritably.

He had smiled, thinking it very funny, though in this case he was annoyed that her foreknowledge had spoiled the surprise. "That is what he asked me to say. How did you know that?" the ambassador asked.

"Never mind that. It's ridiculous. I do not want the whole court to think that Solas is my servant," she said, fierce in her indignation.

"Perhaps I wish them to underestimate me. If the nobility thinks I am only a servant, I may observe things I otherwise would not," he had offered with raised eyebrows. 

"Leiliana has already sent a whole fleet of spies ahead of us," she retorted, turning to him with a glare. Josephine had wisely backed out of the conversation. "Perhaps I would like to be allowed to hold hands with you in public."

It was a good point, and he conceded that perhaps he could be her magical advisor, since the Empress seemed to have one. 

So that was what they said when he followed behind her. Gaspard led her into the ballroom by the elbow, which was to be expected, as the Inquisitor was his guest. Solas couldn't help the annoyed twinge of jealousy, which caused her to glance back at him, her eyebrow arched in amusement. He pretended not to notice, though he knew she would probably tease him about it later. As Josephine had expected, he thought her gown was stunning, making her look even more ravishing (and ravish-able) than usual, and therefore he didn't want anyone else getting near enough to have similar ideas.

Still, he could take some comfort in the fact that Josephine's clever tailor had actually made his clothes to match said gown, but not in a way that was immediately obvious. 

While she was the moon and the ocean wave, he was the sun and the earth. The silk undershirt was a warm brown like melted chocolate and fitted closed to his skin, actually coming over the back and palm of his hand between his middle two fingers. The trousers were similar, but made of extremely soft leather, as were the rust colored boots. It was odd to wear shoes, after going so long without; it felt like he was missing one of his senses, but one did what they must for fashion, he supposed.

Over this was a long vest of rust velvet, which was belted at his waist with a wide copper-colored sash, covered by a smaller green one, the only actual match in color to Evun'ale's dress. The Inquisition logo was stitched on the back and on the lapels of the vest in gold. His hair was now long enough to pull back into a fashionable queue and he could hear the titters of the court as he passed. Once he stood just behind and to the side of the Inquisitor, it was clear that they were together, and the noble ladies said it was no wonder, for an elf to be so handsome. He couldn't help a slightly smug smile.

The introductions took forever, with everyone in the Inquisitor's Inner Circle having one or more titles that were much more aggrandized than usual. Cassandra was, of course, highly irritated when the Herald insisted announcing her by her full name, especially since it was clear that the rest of the Inquisition was having trouble keeping a straight face. Finally, it was done, Gaspard and Celene sniped at each other briefly, and then the Empress introduced Florianne.

The Duchess was surprised to see them, and not very pleasantly. Solas made sure to look her right in the eye, which she clearly found disconcerting. Whether that was because of guilt or because she was used to having elves bow to her was anyone's guess, though he surmised it was a little of both. The nobility liked unpleasant surprises even less than the average person, he had learned.

Evun'ale exchanged barbed pleasantries with the Empress, acquitting herself well, as usual. Once that was done, Leliana asked to have a word. The spymaster came to warn them about Morrigan. Solas was surprised to hear the Left Hand of the Divine say such things about her former colleague. He had heard that the two traveled together with the Hero of Ferelden during the Fifth Blight, yet it was clear that the Spymaster did not remember Flemeth's daughter fondly. 

"Well, Leiliana is off on that score, at least," she said quietly to him as they leaned casually over the balcony, looking for all the world as if they were watching the dancers. "Morrigan has nothing to do with Celene's problems."

"A red herring, it is true. I imagine that you would like a chance to look around a bit more."

"Yes, and I'm sure there are things you might discover that I would not. But meet me in the guest garden in twenty minutes," she said with a playful touch on his arm.

"Planning an assignation already?" he teased with an arch of his eyebrows.

"No. But I certainly hope the court believes we are," she said, flashing him a stunning grin as she glided away, off to work her magic on the court. He, in the meantime, snooped on the servants. The Orlesians did not know what to make of him, but the elven servants were less wary as soon as they got a good look at his ears. One or two of these might even be his own agents, though he never met with them in person, and he frankly doubted they would recognize him now. 

Solas had given little instruction to these in months, simply telling them to watch and report. There were a few of his people doing magical research for him in other areas, recovering artifacts, or assisting the Inquisition with their efforts. He supposed that after they returned to Skyhold, he would actually have to introduce some of his lieutenants to Evun'ale and the others. From now on, they would have to work together.

Most of what he discovered was idle gossip, though that might prove helpful to the Nightingale. But something was happening in the servant's quarters. Missing and dead elves, blood spatter. Once he had paced the whole of the guest wing, he strolled casually out to the garden where he found Evun'ale standing by a fountain, tossing in a Caprice coin.

"Money created specifically to dispose of publicly. A fascinating custom," he said, as he came to stand beside her.

"In my childhood, we threw coins into fountains to make our wishes come true," Evun'ale said with a soft smile.

"And did you wish to become an important figure thrust into the middle of a war with an aged apostate as your lover?" he asked glibly.

She snorted, shaking her head. "No. Usually I wished for someone to kidnap me from my horrid parents, if you want to know the truth. You are far beyond my wildest imaginings."

He took the compliment as it was offered, smiling gently at her. "So, why are we pretending to have an assignation in the garden, vhenan?"

Her eyes glanced pointedly to a sturdy trellis behind them. "Trysting is more socially acceptable than sneaking around the palace. Especially between two knife-ears, so I've heard. Still, there are things to be found if one is discreet, and it may be easier with two pairs of eyes."

He smiled knowingly. "I assume you wish for me to create a distraction, and you will go, for me to follow later."

"I will be interested to see what you come up with," she replied, trailing her fingers seductively over his shoulder before going to speak to a nearby man wearing a positively hideous mask. Seeing her cleverness only made him desire her more. He was beginning to wish that they really were planning an illicit rendezvous rather than espionage. However, the night was still young.

He strolled over to the bard, Maryden, the perpetual musician of the Herald's Rest. The woman was feckless and flighty, as one might expect for a minstrel, but she was a genius for song lyrics. "The Inquisitor wishes to create... a scene, if you will. What music would you suggest for stirring the nobility into absolute outrage?"

"Oh, messere Solas, I couldn't possibly know what you are talking about," she said with false innocence. "But if you would step away for a few moments, I believe you will find the other end of the garden unoccupied soon enough.

"My thanks," he said mildly, and then he paced away to casually lean behind a pillar.

A few minutes later, just long enough so it would not be connected to their conversation, the bard started to sing. It began innocently enough, but soon Solas was chuckling to himself. The song suggested, without being blunt, that not only were Andraste and Shartan lovers, but that they had engaged in ribald acts which included the Maker and possibly several saints. The nobles took a while to figure it out but their response was either to glare at the bard or to leave the garden in an offended huff. Evun'ale nimbly climbed the trellis with no one the wiser, and he followed after Maryden had made her own escape.

"Where are we snooping today, my heart?" he asked, joining her in the shadow of a bush. 

"The Royal Library. Morrigan's domain. I know she's a dead end, but there are clues to be found. And a key, I believe, that we'll be needing."

"Very well. Then let us be off, before our absence is noticed."

"We shouldn't be too quick, 'ma lath. Then the courtiers will develop incorrect opinions about you," she remarked teasingly, pulling him close for a kiss. "Also, I might have heard several of the noble ladies wondering if I might lend you out."

"Feeling possessive?" he asked with a smile, pressing his lips to her bare neck.

"No more than you. I saw you giving Gaspard the evil eyes. As if he posed any sort of threat, the pompous ass."

"As much a gaggle of simpering ladies pose to you, vhenan."

"I know," she said, after one last bruising kiss. "But I want them to know too."

Then they had to get back to business, unfortunately, quickly entering the Grand Library and discovering quite a few interesting documents.

"Gaspard was trying to ally with Morrigan against Briala. She has some kind of weapon?" Evun'ale said quietly.

"The eluvians," Solas said with a raised eyebrow. "I intended to take care of that today in any case. But I thought we would leave it until after the ball. However, it may prove to be a valuable bargaining chip."

Evun'ale nodded, a frown creasing her face. She had always meant to ask Solas about Felassan, why he had killed his agent, his friend. Yet she wondered if she really wanted to know the answer. They quickly picked through the rest of the library and re-entered the vestibule through the locked door just as the first bell rang.

"Perfect timing," Evun'ale said with a satisfied sigh, squeezing Solas's hand and pulling him close. It would look only like lovers bidding farewell as they whispered to each other.

"What now, vhenan? We discovered little, except more prove of what we already knew. Morrigan is not involved."

She nodded. "But I needed Morrigan to approach me herself, and she won't until I've already rifled through her secrets. She has the key to the servants' quarters, which is what we really need."

"Ah. That is also what I have discovered. Someone has been killing the elven servants," he said, taking the opportunity to stroke her cheek, trying not to let his worry show.

She smiled gently in response. "Venatori, with Florianne as the mastermind. Get Blackwall and Sera, they're the least likely to be missed, and meet me with arms and armor at the door to the servants' wing in half and hour."

"And what will you be doing while I rally the troops?" he asked with a gleam in his eyes.

"Dancing, mingling and arranging my own distraction. Which reminds me, I have got to get Maryden to write down that song." Solas shook his head with an amused smile as the second bell rang. "Fashionably late. Perfect," Evun'ale said, and they parted with one last tender kiss.

Solas watched her approvingly as she approached the ballroom, intercepted by Morrigan, as she had planned. The two women spoke for a few moments and entered the ballroom together, a statement of alliance. He could not say he trusted Flemeth's daughter, but he had little doubt that Evun'ale could handle her.

*************

In a half hour, Evun'ale appeared at the door to the servants' quarters, red cheeked and breathless. "Iron Bull is flinging Morrigan around the dance floor as we speak, causing a minor scandal in which she was only happy to participate in, once I assured her of a secure place in the Inquisition. Let's go."

They slipped into the door with no one the wiser. "Solas, help me get out of this dress," she said, turning her back to him. He gave the other two a pointed glance.

"Come on Sera, let's look around while the inquisitor gets her armor on," Blackwall said gruffly, his cheeks slightly red. 

"What? I don't even get to see the Inquisiboobs? You guys ruin all my fun," Sera grouched, gesturing with her middle finger.

"Stay close," Evun'ale said to their retreating backs. "There are Venatori assassins all over the place."

"I have never seen that gesture before," Solas said with raised eyebrows as he slid the dress over her head and she pulled off her shift while he hung her ballgown off a convenient sconce. 

Evun'ale laughed as she pulled on her tunic and light chain mail. She'd been wearing leather leggings under her ballgown the whole time. "I'm afraid she learned it from me. It basically means 'fuck you'."

"Charming," he replied, rolling his eyes but smiling as he buckled on her pauldrons and greaves while she pulled on bracers and gloves. Finally, a long leather vest was belted at her waist, and she slid her daggers from her back. The whole process had taken less than five minutes.

"Okay, time to kick some Venatori ass," she said fiercely. Solas pulled his staff from his back. They had both agreed that it was foolish to appear as Fen'harel in the Winter Palace. Even one servant who had heard the right tales and his cover could be blown, so he was back to being the simple apostate. At least until the time came to confront Briala. 

They raced through the servants' wing, picking up what evidence they could, defeating a horde of Venatori in the garden. The harlequins were fast and deadly, but Solas and Evun'ale were a well-oiled team by now, occasionally even fighting back to back, anticipating each other's moves and needs, both through the emotions that traveled along their empathic bond and through the benefit of practice.

A dead body in the garden, a member of the Council of Heralds, with Gaspard's dagger in his chest. "You'd think Gaspard would be smart enough not to use his own knife," Evun'ale remarked.

"Indeed," Solas replied with a smirk. "I suspect that Ambassador Briala may have arranged for this. It is certainly what I would have done in her place."

"I never though you were the ruthless type, Solas," Blackwall remarked as they left the garden, running to save a young elf from a harlequin in Florianne's old bedroom.

"I did not topple the Evanuris without bloodshed," he replied blandly, after watching his beloved kick an assassin out a window and acquire an agent for the Inquisition practically in the same breath. She was, in a word, stunning. "Regrettable though it may be, war often requires the setting aside of one's moral compass. Especially a war in which your foes have a mountain of resources at their disposal and you are the pauper. Guerrilla tactics necessitate violence. It still amazes me how the Inquisitor has managed to navigate this morass while sacrificing so little of her own ideals."

"She is a remarkable woman," Blackwall agreed, while the Inquisitor and Sera were busy looting, and Solas was healing a minor cut to the warrior's sword hand. "I sometimes envy you. But then I saw the way the entire court looked daggers at your back, and I decided I'd rather be unnoticed."

Solas laughed. "I find her to be worth every curse and insult. But you are right, it is hard to remain in the shadows while standing at her side. Yet, like a moth to a flame, she pulls us all to her light, and I find I do not mind an occasional burn for her sake."

"Ugh. Poetry," Sera remarked, as the two women returned. "Why do you have to be so... elfy?"

Evun'ale shook her head and held up a locket of Dalish origin. "Got what we came for. Let's get back to the festivities."

They found Ambassador Briala battling another harlequin in the hallway. After defeating the assassin, Evun'ale showed her the locket.

"Where did you find that? I thought... assumed..." Briala said, clearly startled enough to break through her mask of indifference. 

"Locked away in Celene's private treasury like the crown jewels. Obviously she still values it," Evun'ale replied with a knowing smile.

"She kept it? All this time? I... Inquisitor. You have my attention, obviously. I take it that you were not the one who left the Herald dead in the garden," Briala said, looking down at her clasped hands with a conflicted expression.

"We found him that way. Gaspard's knife was the murder weapon. Seems a little suspect," she added mildly.

"Gaspard was never known for his brains, Inquisitor. However, it seems we have important things to discuss, back in the ballroom perhaps." The first bell was ringing in the background. 

"Indeed we do. And there is something we need to discuss with you privately later as well," Evun'ale added.

"Oh?" The elven Ambassador now looked genuinely surprised. "I do not know what business you might have with me outside of these negotiations."

Solas looked at her with an arched eyebrow. "Fen'harel enansal, Ambassador," he said, his face betraying nothing as they walked away. Briala looked stricken.

They barely had time to get back into their formal clothes before the second bell rang. "Blackwall, tell Cullen that when I come out, he needs to speak to the guards in front of the trophy room. Lure them away. I have to go have a dance with the Grand Duchess."

"Are you certain that is wise, 'ma lath? Florianne must know we are on to her by now," Solas said quietly as they made their way to the door.

"I'm afraid I don't have a choice, vhenan'ara. However, you're welcome to join me and make sure she doesn't decide to stab me and have done with it. Perhaps you can dance with Lady Morrigan," she said, giving his hand as squeeze before they parted ways.

He raised his eyebrows. It seemed risky to expose himself to Flemeth's daughter, especially knowing her contentious relationship. However, it would seem like a natural pairing to the court, he could keep an eye on Evun'ale, and snag her once she and the Duchess were finished with their verbal sparring.

He approached her quietly, extending his hand. "May I have this dance, Lady Morrigan?"

She placed her hand in his with narrowed eyes. "You are the Inquisitor's magical advisor, they tell me. An apostate, much like myself."

"That is what they say about me," he agreed blandly. "And they say that you have charmed the Empress using blood magic and plan to usurp her throne," he added, his eyes turning to watch Florianne and Evun'ale dancing. They looked deceptively congenial.

"Do they? My, their imaginations have grown. Still, the nobility is all aflutter over the rumor that you are also the Inquisitor's lover," Morrigan said, grinning as if she had scored a point.

He snorted. "That is hardly a secret, Lady Morrigan. The Inquisitor and I have never hidden our relationship. In fact, you may notice that we used it as an excuse to inquire into your private affairs." Morrigan scowled and Solas only grinned wider. "I am afraid at this game you have no hope of winning, for I know far more about you than you can possibly know about me, Flemeth's daughter. I know things about you that even you are not aware of," he added. 

Morrigan's frown deepened as the time came for them to switch partners. He had maneuvered himself so that he only had to dance with one other person, a tittering lady who seemed not to know whether she wanted to make eyes at him or be frightened. He was glad to get rid of her and take Evun'ale's hand. "You escaped unscathed, I see," he said, his smile relieved as much as it was amused by the way every eye in the court now turned to them.

"As did you," she replied, her fingers curling around the back of his neck. "Morrigan seemed displeased by the conversation." Her physical closeness was pleasantly discomfiting, and Solas was glad that he had such practice at controlling his emotions.

"She thought she would embarrass me by speaking publicly of our relationship. But I have been playing the Game for thousands of years. I believe her pride has been somewhat bruised. She will undoubtedly recover," he added with a smile. "What is next on our agenda, oh fearless leader?"

"First, I thought I'd dance with this handsome elven apostate I've been hearing so much about. Give the court some time to stew in their own juices. Then it's off for a quick conversation with Celene's ladies-in-waiting, and then we will be ready to search the royal apartments."

"I hope your mysterious dance partner has honorable intentions, lest you scandalize all of Orlais," he remarked with a playful arch of his eyebrow.

"I hope he doesn't," she whispered into his ear as the music concluded and they parted somewhat reluctantly. Solas left the ballroom after that, grabbing a glass of wine and leaning quietly in a window alcove, before the heat in his belly drove him to do something regrettably scandalous.


	26. Mask and Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the Winter Palace. They gather the rest of the evidence, fight Venatori, confront Florianne and triumphantly conclude negotiations. After speaking with ambassador Briala, Solas bring Evun'ale into the Crossroads and to the Sanctuary.

Evun'ale spoke again with Briala, and found the Ambassador somewhat humbler than their earlier conversations.

"Your magical advisor, where did you find him?" Briala said with a frown. "He reminds me of someone I once knew."

The Inquisitor smiled enigmatically in response. "He came to us, actually. But more, you can ask him yourself. I know the whole tale but it is certainly not my secret to give."

"It is true that you are lovers, then?" Briala said shrewdly. "I thought perhaps you only pretended, to throw off the nobility, but the smile in your eyes when you speak of him... I hope you know what you're getting into, Inquisitor."

"Concerned for me, Ambassador?" she replied, her frown skeptical.

"You are one of us, in a position of great power. You are capable of doing real good for the elves. I do not wish to see you brought low by betrayal," Briala said, matter-of-factly.

"Solas, at the least, will not betray me, of that I assure you. Now, I have already spoken to Celene's ladies about the locket. Here is what I want to know. What will you do if you and she are reconciled? Is that what you even want?"

Briala's expression went slack with surprise. "Why would you ask me that? It seems a question designed for a trap."

"As you said, I have a vested interest in helping the elven people. If you and the Empress were again on good terms, you would be in a better position to arrange that. Besides, I'm a romantic at heart."

Briala relaxed slightly, though she was still nearly wringing her hands. "I.. yes. Even without... personal reasons, I would be a fool not to take the chance to restore my position at court. Though it seems you intend to relieve me of my chief advantage."

"Though the Inquisition has other reasons for wanting control of the eluvian network, allowing your people to access the eluvians with impunity is a security breach we cannot allow," Evun'ale said with raised eyebrows. "However, we may be willing to negotiate somewhat on that score."

"Agents of Fen'harel have tried to take the passphrase before and were unsuccessful. What makes you believe you will fare better?" Briala retorted, her confidence somewhat restored.

"I believe you'll find the ace up my sleeve to be particularly potent in this case," was all that Evun'ale would reveal on the matter. "I will be seeing you again shortly, I have no doubt."

This time it was Sera who created the distraction, via several casually dropped jars of bees. The terrified screams from the ballroom promised them plenty of time to get things done. After a quick looting of the Trophy Room, Cassandra and Varric accompanied Solas and Evun'ale into the Royal Apartments. They ran through, looting whatever looked important, but ignoring Celene's private bedroom, as Evun'ale explained that it was not needed. Then they were back in the gardens, and there was Florianne, almost feral in her confidence.

"Amusing show you put on, Inquisitor, but your meddling stops now. Imagine how pleased my master will be when I deliver your marked hand to him as proof of your demise. Meanwhile, I will murder Celene in front of the entire court." Then the Grand Duchess opened a rift and left them to battle the demons.

Several minutes later, Cassandra groaned, picking herself up from the ground. "Ugh. Despair demons. Every time I hear their shrieking...."

"I know. The dratted things never stand still. And how do they sustain that ice ray thing? If only you could do that, Solas," Evun'ale said grumpily.

"Even I do not have infinite mana," he said with a chuckle, as a grizzled looking mercenary approached them.

"You're the Inquisitor? Were those demons? In the palace?" the man asked, terrified and dumbfounded.

"Good eye, those were definitely demons," Evun'ale replied with a grin, making the others snort with suppressed laughter. "But what are you doing here? You sound Ferelden."

"I am. I'm a mercenary, Devlin, of Devlin's Devils, at your service. Gaspard hired me, when he couldn't get enough fancy chevaliers on such short notice. I should've known better, but he offered twice our normal fee. He told me to meet him up here. I would have died! The ass. That's what I get, working for Orlesians."

"You think Gaspard wanted you murdered over a bill?" Evun'ale asked incredulously. Then she shook her head. There was time for this conversation. "If I offer you the protection of the Inquisition, will you present evidence against Gaspard?"

"I'll say you're the blessed Andraste herself if you'll get me out of here." That handled, they looted a few more rooms on their way back to the ball and once again changed quickly back to their formal clothes.

Evun'ale looked at the others. "Everyone be ready for my signal. I'm hoping to pull this off without bloodshed, but we'll see how it goes."

The advisors met her just inside the ballroom. "What have you decided, Inquisitor? Our agents are ready," Leiliana asked her in an anxious whisper.

"I'm going to talk to Florianne. After all the schmoozing I've done, she should come to heel without too much of a fight."

"I hope you're right, Inquisitor," Cullen said with a frown. 

Evun'ale, with Solas trailing at her right side, approached Florianne with a smile. "Grand Duchess. We owe the court one last show." Florianne was not pleased to see them; her eyes were already darting around for an escape route. "The eyes of Southern Thedas are upon us, my Lady. Remember to smile. This is your party after all, you would not want to appear as if you were losing control of it."

"Why would I not be pleased to speak with you Inquisitor?" she replied, the smug smirk on her face beginning to waver.

"Just a moment ago, I recall you saying that only needed me out of the ballroom long enough to strike, but that you hoped to send my hand back to your master, Corypheus. Since your demons and archers failed to kill me, I feared you would not save me this last dance." The whispers of the court were magnified to a dull roar.

Celene started to shake her head, disbelieving perhaps, but Solas thought it looked more like resignation. "It does seem rather easy to slip from your good graces. You even framed your brother for the murder of a member of the Council. These talks were your idea, were they not? And how convenient, Gaspard, Celene, Briala, the Council of Heralds, even me. All your enemies under one roof, and in one fell swoop all rival claimants for the throne are eliminated and you deliver Orlais to Corypheus on a silver platter."

"This is all very entertaining, Inquisitor, but surely you don't think anyone will believe these fanciful lies," Florianne said, taking a step back, her hands coming up in front of her, an involuntary gesture of self-defense.

"That will be a matter for a judge to decide, cousin," Celene replied archly. 

Now Florianne was looking truly afraid. "Gaspard, brother, surely you do not believe this nonsense? I would not.."

But the Grand Duke shook his head in disgust and stalked away, following Ambassador Briala. Florianne began to sob as the Imperial Guards advanced on her threatening. Evun'ale sighed, "You lost this game long ago. You're just the last to know." The Grand Duchess was dragged away, already broken by her defeat. Evun'ale now approached the Empress with a sure step, Solas practically glowing with pride behind her. "Empress, I believe we need to speak, somewhere more private," she said grimly.

***********

Gaspard was banished from Orlais, while Briala was rewarded with a noble title and a position on the Council of Heralds, a first for an elf of Orlais. She and Celene seemed thrilled to be on good terms again and the Empress announced a new era of Orlesian diplomacy and co-operation with a smile on her face.

Evun'ale spoke briefly to Morrigan. As she has known would happen, the witch had been ordered to join the Inquisition as official liaison. She seemed indifferent about being unceremoniously kicked out of Orlais, though she narrowed her eyes at Solas as he passed her in the doorway.

They leaned on the balustrade together, their heads and hands touching. "That went as good as it could have possibly gone, I think," Evun'ale said with a sigh, a combination of relief and fatigue in her voice.

Solas wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. "You were remarkable, vhenan. I have rarely seen anyone play the Game so well, and yet in all things, you remained yourself. No needless violence, no idle threats. Orlais will not forget this night easily."

"They will be talking about it for ages, no doubt," Briala said from behind them. They both turned around, scowling. "Sorry to interrupt your private moment, but I wish to conclude out business before I retire. I... need to thank you, for what you have done, for the elves, and for me, personally. I will gladly turn over possession of my part of the eluvian network to you, though I will miss it."

Solas snorted. "Very gracious of you, considering. However, I will override the magic personally. Do not trouble yourself."

Briala frowned at him. "How could a self-trained apostate have enough power to do such a thing? I may not be a mage, but I am not a fool. One of Fen'harel's own agents could not accomplish it, how could you hope to?"

"I am not all that I seem, Ambassador. Do not underestimate me because of what you perceive my background to be. Then you become no better than that which you wish to overthrow." He pulled out the wolf jawbone from inside his shirt. "Once I sought to free my people from their chains. My victory had some unpleasant unintended consequences, however, so I returned to amend my errors."

"You?! You cannot expect me to believe that you are Fen'harel?" 

Solas chuckled darkly. "You are not required to believe me. Felassan spoke highly of your intelligence, however. What motivation would I have to lie? I require nothing from you."

"Felassan is dead, killed by you, if your words are to be believed," Briala said coldly, though Evun'ale could see that she was trembling. "And you, Inquisitor, if you believe this ridiculous tale, how could you ally with him?"

Solas sighed then, his eyes downcast and weary. "That was a regrettable mistake. He was a friend, and it was only much later that I realized how foolish I had been. I let my own misconceptions about the world color my actions."

"I do not understand," Briala said with a frown. "I assumed you killed him for failing to get control of the eluvians, a ruthless punishment, perhaps, but not without precedent. Why feel sudden remorse for his death, when it was the fate he had accepted?"

Evun'ale was also curious about this, so she turned to Solas with a raised eyebrow. He clasped his hands in front of him, staring at them pensively. "No. Although the Dalish make me out to be a frightening monster, I would not kill an agent for simple failure. I killed him because I believed he had been compromised by you." 

"I was newly awoken from uthenera then, weak and tired. And when I saw what the elves had become... They appeared to me as empty shells, Tranquil, almost, cut off from the Fade, from their birthright of magic and immortality. Felassan saw, right away, that you were real people, deserving of life just as much as the ancient Elvhen had been. He tried to tell me, but I was not ready to see." Solas shook his head, and he reached out for the hand he knew would be there. Briala saw their fingers intertwine, as they leaned together, each relying on the other for support.

It was now the ambassador's turn to sigh. "And so, the Dread Wolf is turned back by a force even older and more powerful, love. I suppose I see now. Though I wonder what you intend to do, now that you have been convinced of the worth of the world that you made possible."

"Stopping Corypheus is my current goal. His rise is my doing, and therefore, his defeat must be the priority. After that, the Inquisitor and I intend to research what can be done to reconcile the two worlds." And then he smiled at the Inquisitor, an adoring smile that reached all the way to his eyes.

Briala was charmed despite herself. "What a tale the bards will make of this someday," she said with a chuckle. "I will do whatever I can to help you, of course. You wish to restore the elves to their rightful place. Nothing would make me happier."

Solas nodded. "The Inquisitor and I appreciate what you've done for the People. As such, I would give you a gift," he said, extending his hand.

Briala took it, a bit suspiciously. A small burst of magic, like an electric shock, passed between them, and the ambassador yanked her hand away. "What did you do?"

He smiled. "Fen'harel enaste. You will be able to pass the eluvians that bear my key. My plan involves eventually incorporating all of the ones that remain functional. Only you will be able to access it without my aid, however. It will not allow even you through if you try to bring companions. I cannot allow a horde of unknown agents passing through my network. As you can see, I now have things worth protecting."

Briala looked down into her hand with amazement. Nothing seemed different about it. "Thank you. A generous gift indeed. I presume it is the Inquisition who has been spreading all the new information about Fen'harel and his true purpose?"

Solas looked at Evun'ale sharply and she smiled. "Josephine is spearheading the new Dread Wolf public relations department. You will need the world to trust you if you want to remake it, 'ma lath." He sighed, resigned, and Briala laughed to see it.

"I will leave you to it, Inquisitor. Everything I have seen tonight, it makes me hopeful for the future of the elves." 

They were finally alone again, and Solas leaned his head against Evun'ale's, sighing with emotional fatigue. She wrapped an arm around his waist. "I always wondered about Felassan."

"It shames me to recall the full scope of my mistakes. Had I listened to him for a moment, not let my pride get in the way, he might still be alive."

"I suppose we will have to make sure he didn't die in vain," she said as she turned to kiss his cheek.

"I have no doubt that you will keep me on the right path, vhenan. Too often have you seen the solutions right under my nose when I was content to take the most difficult way," he said, burying his nose in her hair, breathing her in.

"I have noticed a trend," she agreed, but her smile was playful. "However, I feel we should be celebrating our victory. Orlais survives another day."

"Indeed. And what shall we do in commemoration? Traditionally, this would be the time for drinking, but you would feel left out." He kissed her forehead, allowing himself to feel relieved. They had been remarkably successful.

"Let's go scandalize the court some more. We can show everyone how knife-ear apostates really dance," she replied with a wicked smile.

"Ma nuvenin," he said, laughing and taking her hand. "However, I was promised an assignation in the garden. Let us make sure we leave time enough for that."

"Of course," she replied with a smile of anticipation, and then they swept back on to the dance floor, flouting convention by allowing no one to come between them for several dances and touching closely enough to give a Chantry mother the vapors.

But Evun'ale danced with Dorian some time later in the night, who was pleasantly surprised to find his toes unharmed. "I can hardly believe my eyes. Our little clumsy foul-mouthed Inquisitor, dancing like a born noble, and outplaying all of Orlais at it's own Game. I feel like a proud father watching my child graduate from the Circle."

She grinned slyly at him. "Did I see you dancing with a young Dalish earlier? Trying to create a scandal to rival my own?"

Dorian actually blushed. "He... wants to join the Inquisition, he said. A friend of Briala's. Charming lad, really."

"I'm glad you had a good time, Dorian. Despite the assassins."

"Well, one does what one must. Not everyone can say they watched two elven apostates face down the nobility of an entire court, and somehow charm everyone while flouting every societal norm. It gives me hope for Tevinter."

"You should speak to Solas about Tevinter. If you really want to reform the Imperium from within, he would be the one with experience."

Dorian sighed. "I know. I keep meaning to, but every time I speak to the man we end up sniping at each other about slavery and the origins of Tevene magical traditions. The trouble is that he's completely correct."

"You have just as much pride as he does. It's like two porcupines trying to give each other a hug."

"You always say the strangest things, Evun'ale. What in the world in a porcupine? It sounds like an exotic fruit." Evun'ale laughed loudly, and then she was back to dancing with Solas, Dorian now dancing with Vivienne.

"Been giving Dorian a hard time, vhenan?" he said with a smile, pulling her close against him.

"Maybe a little. Mostly confusing him, though. How was your dance with Josephine? Her sister looked positively furious with jealousy." She snaked her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and his eyes closed briefly as he shivered.

"Lady Montiliyet was delightful as usual, and feeling particularly smug about your triumph." His fingers trailed up and down her spine as they danced, their hips brushing at every fourth step. The music ended, but they did not break apart for a long moment, the shared desire they had kindled in their bond making them loathe to stop touching.

"Maybe we should go for a walk? I'm sure they've cleared the dead bodies out of the gardens," she said with a teasing caress. The gardens did lose some of its romance when you'd left a bunch of dead assassins there just a few hours previously.

Solas smiled softly. "I have just had a much better idea."

************

One of the eluvians in question was in a hidden alcove outside the servants' quarters. Solas placed his hand flat against the dark glass and probed it gently with his magical senses. Evun'ale could see the needles of his magic poking the weave of the eluvian like a surgeon might gently probe an unexplained problem. 

"Luckily for us, the ward on the key is fairly simple, and brittle with age." The glass flashed bright green with his magic and then the mirror lit up from within, open. "However, I will prevent further meddling before we go through." Now, one of the magnificently complex sigils appeared under his hand, and it turned back and forth several times like a combination lock before disappearing.

"Now only you and I and Briala will be able to use the mirror. And my agents, eventually. I will have to reset each mirror in this section of the network, but that is not my goal tonight."

"I didn't know you could key them so specifically," Evun'ale said with raised eyebrows. "I thought it was usually a certain spell or phrase."

"The eluvian in Mythal's temple is keyed to the Well of Sorrows, to the touch of that power. This eluvian is keyed to me. Or my magic, more specifically. You have the Anchor, and Briala has the mark of my blessing."

"Wouldn't that allow Corypheus in too? Since he has your orb?" Evun'ale could hardly believe Solas would make such an obvious oversight.

He smiled in the way he always did when she was particularly clever. "No, though it is a good point. But Corypheus has tainted the orb with the Blight, and so I specifically locked the eluvian against it."

Of course, that seemed like a fairly obvious solution now that she thought about it. "So where are we going?" she asked him, her eyes lighting with excitement.

"You will see, my heart," he replied with a smile that would have been infuriatingly smug, except that he was also clearly excited to be able to share this with her. He held out his hand to her, and they stepped through the glass.

***************

"This is Vir Dirthara," he said with a sweep of his hand. It was a huge ruin of what had once been a clearly wondrous structure. "It was once a grand library, center of the learning of Elvhenan. But it relied on the magic of the Fade, and the Veil destroyed it. Sadly, there were many such wonders that were demolished by my actions."

Evun'ale squeezed his hand, her eyes wide. "Where is it? I mean, I've never heard of it."

"It is not in the physical world. This is a place like Mythal's realm, made of the Fade, but apart from it. A place between. Some call it the Crossroads. However, lovely as it is, this is not our destination." Solas led her along the branching paths leisurely, giving her time to look at everything.

"Why is everything so... colorful? I mean, the air is iridescent, like oil on water."

"You can see the warping of reality that is the Veil. All elves can, our blood is tied to the Fade, and our eyes perceive its touch. The Crossroads is closer to it. I suppose it is almost within the Veil itself, though that is an oversimplification."

They passed another gigantic gold wolf statue and Evun'ale shook her head. "I find it extremely funny that the largest fanciest Fen'harel statues I've ever seen are in the public library. You really are the biggest nerd," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist with a giggle. "I can't imagine how you managed to get such a terrifying reputation."

Solas frowned down at her in mock offense. "I have rent the world asunder with my magic, sealed away gods and demons, and you cannot imagine why people might be afraid of me?"

"Except I know the man you really are. Who loves tiny cakes and snorts when he laughs, and would rather be reading a book in nearly any situation. Kind of takes the Dread out of it. Maybe that's what I should tell Josephine to do, just spread the news that Fen'harel loves cake."

Solas snorted, and Evun'ale laughed as her point was proved. "Somehow, I feel that the Dalish would be unconvinced by my dessert preferences. They would probably just assume you were a madwoman. Which is, perhaps true," he added, wrapping his arms around her tightly and kissing her soundly on the lips. "I am glad, however, that you find me less than frightening. I suppose it is just the antidote that my ego requires. But look, arasha, here is the the mirror that we need. And this one already belongs to me."

The mirror came to life at his touch and they stepped through, arriving a dizzying moment later in a bowl-shaped valley lit by bright moonlight. The paths seemed to glow pale purple in the darkness, and she could see the familiar outline of wolf statues everywhere. "Where are we now?" Evun'ale asked, breathlessly.

"This is the Sanctuary. Before the Veil, this was my home. All the slaves I freed came here first, although, as you saw, most of them stayed despite my urging and it became a sort of shrine," he shook his head in irritation before smiling again, not a bit smugly. "However, like Mythal's realm, after I raised the Veil, this place became divorced from the flow of time."

"Ooooooh," Evun'ale said in realization. "Our own private vacation spot."

"Precisely. There is even a hot spring," he said with a suggestive arch of his eyebrow.


	27. A Welcome Respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short transitional fluff and smut chapter, covering their time at the Sanctuary, returning to Skyhold and deciding their next course of action, and continuing the mural in the Rotunda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ma nuvenin: Lit: your wish, means As you wish  
> Lasa ar’an alas’nira aron fen’en: Let us dance as the wolves do.  
> Sathan: please  
> Isalan dara su tarasyl i’na: I need to go to the sky with you

There was, after all, no need to rush here. They walked hand in hand along the moonlit path, Evun'ale asking questions and Solas answering, their entwined fingers giving him peace in a place that normally would have engulfed him with painful memories. 

"So you lived here with your adoring masses?" she said teasingly as they entered the main fortress. He led her to a large round room covered in murals like the rotunda writ large. There was Fen'harel, freeing the slaves, removing the vallaslin, walking his lonely path. 

"I did. Though I spent as little time here as I could manage, once it became crowded with refugees. It became somewhat.. uncomfortable." He sighed at the memory and she squeezed his hand, knowing how he felt, alone in the middle of a crowd. 

He smiled softly. "But now it is empty and perhaps it is a place we can make our own. At least temporarily."

The words filled her with warmth. "I like this plan. But this does not look at all suited for a bedroom. Or are we still looking for a garden?"

Solas chuckled warmly, scooping her up in his arms. "Whatever you wish, vhenan," he said, pressing a kiss to her throat.

"Take me to bed, Solas," she purred, trailing her fingers along his ear in just the way she knew he liked.

"Ma nuvenin," he said roughly, and with a touch of his hand to the wall, it slid aside, revealing a spiral staircase which he strode up briskly. Evun'ale might have liked to look around, but she was distracted by his mouth on her, on her neck, on her ear, his teeth nipping her lower lip. A room opened above them, and Evun'ale got a fleeting impression of a high ceiling and wide windows before he was pressing her into a soft mattress.

His mouth was on hers, their hands were tangled in each other's hair, their breath coming in heated gasps. Her hands pushed the vest from his shoulders and then slid under the smooth silk of his tunic, finding the familiar heat of his skin. He sighed with pleasure at the touch, and slid his own hands down over her breasts, automatically seeking the buttons of a jacket and then he chuckled.

"I was so caught up in the moment I forgot that you were wearing this beautiful gown," he said, trailing his fingers appreciatively over the iridescent beadwork. "You always stand apart in a crowd, drawing my eye no matter what I intend. But tonight you shone like a brilliant jewel among the rocks, even though all of Orlais was on display."

"Josephine thought you would like the gown. She was afraid you would want to keep me all to yourself when you saw it," she said with a smile.

"Hmmmm. She was not far wrong. When I was younger, I might have struck Gaspard for the way he gazed upon you. Luckily, I have since learned some self-control. So please sit up, so I can unlace you, lest I commit a grave crime by ripping this extremely fetching but inconvenient garment."

She chuckled in response, and allowed him to pull her up. However impatient he claimed to be, he took his time with the laces, kissing her neck with a lingering gentleness that made her ache. His fingers trailed along her ribs as he pushed the dress and and the shift over head as one. The night air was cool against her skin, but his hands were warm, leaving lingering trails of heat as she turned in his arms and pulled off his tunic before pressing herself against him, her legs going around his waist as her arms went around his neck, one tangling in his hair as and one trailing down his spine.

Solas groaned, the combination of the touch of their heated skin and her hips pressing against his nearly breaking any shred of control that remained to him. "Lasa ar’an alas’nira aron fen’en," he said hoarsely, pushing her down, getting her breeches off far more quickly than she would have thought possible.

Evun'ale was not a schooled enough student of Elvhen to know what that meant, but the intent was certainly clear. She whimpered in anticipation as he bared himself before her, but instead of kneeling between her legs as she expected, he pulled her astride his lap, sliding inside her as his mouth met hers hungrily.

They moved together at an achingly slow pace, their hands and mouths roaming freely, but Evun'ale was not feeling particularly patient. After a few minutes, she pushed Solas on to his back and he laughed as his head hung over the edge of the bed. He might have chided her for her impatience except that she rolled her hips against him and he groaned. She controlled the rhythm, faster and slower as her whims demanded, taking him to the edge and then pulling back time and time again until he thought he might go mad with the need for release. 

"Sathan, vhenan," he groaned, reaching for her in desperation. Her answering grin was positively wicked.

"Do you need something, my love?" she asked him, her own voice husky with desire. She moved her hips in a slow circle and he growled in frustration.

"You know what I need," he said, growling, his back arching toward her in silent entreaty. "Isalan dara su tarasyl i’na."

"Ma nuvenin," she replied, grinding her hips against his, taking him deep inside her as she increased the tempo of their dance until they finally crashed together in a peak of ecstasy that left them both weak and shaking. 

"You are a thoroughly evil woman, no matter what I have said before," Solas said with a warm chuckle, after they were curled together under the blankets, touching mostly for the simple pleasure of feeling each other's skin.

"Hhmmm, you don't seem to mind all that much," she replied with a languid purr, entwining her fingers with his.

"I suppose I can see the benefits." They fell into peaceful silence and were asleep soon after.

When they emerged from the eluvian after what seemed like a few days later to them, not more than fifteen minutes had passed. They meandered back through the gardens hand in hand, taking a detour when they almost stumbled upon Sera getting frisky with a giggling noble lady. Josephine frowned at them when they passed her in the corridor. 

"Inquisitor? What are you wearing?" the ambassador asked, seemingly caught between amusement and horror.

Evun'ale and Solas both laughed suddenly, realizing that they had at least partly forgotten where and what they would be returning to. Though Solas looked much as he always did, in a long white tunic belted over his hips and a vest of pale leather, Evun'ale was wearing one of his old shirts too, which was, of course, ridiculously too long. "Er..." she started, her face reddening.

"Evun'ale has spilled something upon her dress," Solas said mildly with a suppressed smile. "We'll just go back to the inn and wait for you all."

"That is.... a good idea," Josephine said with a long-suffering sigh, perhaps deciding that they had, after all, earned their fun.

****************

Everyone was relieved when they finally arrived back in Skyhold, stretching their legs with groans after the long carriage ride and retreating quickly to their rooms for warm baths and changes of clothes. But they met later that day for a War Council.

"Inquisitor, your performance at Halamshiral was extraordinary," Leiliana said with a soft smile. "Empress Celene is secure on her throne, and Orlais is indebted to us. Briala has sent us valuable intel from her network of spies."

"Indeed," Cullen agreed. "I cannot say I would have done as well. The Game is one of the less fun amusements I've witnessed. In any case, we've thwarted Corypheus for the meantime, but I have no doubt he will try again."

"He is claiming to be a god. Simple pride demands that he not acknowledge these failures and simply continues as he has begun," Solas said with raised eyebrows. 

"But what will he do next? Of that we have no idea," Josephine said. 

"No one has seen Corypheus himself for months. But we know the Venatori are interested in Elven artifacts. My agents will attempt to discover more," said Leiliana.

Evun'ale nodded. She and Solas already knew what was to come, of course, but there was currently no rush. It would be months before the darkspawn magister would locate the Temple of Mythal. There were other things that needed accomplished at the moment.

"While Leiliana is doing that, my suggestion is this. Cassandra wants to investigate what happened to the Seekers of Truth, and we also need to disrupt the red lyrium trade on two fronts. So Solas, Cole, and I will go with Cassandra to Caer Oswin. The rest of you can head to Valhammar with Varric. We'll meet back here, and then head to the Emerald Graves. That's a big area, plenty for all of us to do," Evun'ale said.

"By that time, presumably I will have a better idea of where Corypheus can be found," the spymaster said.

The others nodded, happy enough with the plan and the splitting of duties. "I plan to leave here in two days," Evun'ale said, "If that's all right with everyone. We just need to get resupplied."

"There is one other thing, Inquisitor," Josephine said. "I have discovered a potential sponsor for the duParaquettes. But Countess Dionne needs a favor from us first."

"Of course she does," Evun'ale said with a sigh. "What does she want?"

"Her lover, Ellerly, joined the rebel mages when the Circles fell. Last time anyone heard from Ellerly was just outside Andoral's Reach. She wants us to find him."

"Cullen, send mages and scouts from our troops to look. No templars, or he might well disappear again."

"Very well, Inquisitor," the Commander said, and everyone went their separate ways to prepare.

**************

Evun'ale made sure to have conversations with everyone that day. She counseled Cullen to stick with his plan to stay off lyrium, knowing that it was not only better for his health, but that he would prove to be an important example for other Templars in the future. Vivienne was as irritating as ever but Evun'ale agreed to help her find some books. Sera and Iron Bull both needed reassurance about what had happened in the Fade. Blackwall apologized for his earlier mistrust and also thanked her for the mercy and purpose she had given the Wardens.

Solas found her when she was bullying Varric into finishing a book that Cassandra was dying to read.

"Only if I get to be there when you give it to her," the dwarf said with a grin.

"Okay, but don't you dare make her feel bad about it," Evun'ale said, waggling her finger. "I mean it. Getting her to even admit what she wanted was like pulling teeth."

"Fine, fine.." Varric said, though his eyes were twinkling slyly.

Evun'ale shook her head and followed Solas into the rotunda. "Is this part of your master plan to get Cassandra and Varric together?" he asked with a chuckle. 

"Yes, and no," she replied, smiling. "It is important for repairing their relationship, but I doubt anything can happen until Varric comes back from Valhammar. That will be a bit of a wake up call for him, I think."

"Hmmm. Well, I have a request as well. For Cole. Apparently, our time at Adamant made him concerned that mages might be able to bind him against his will. The Rivaini seers have an amulet that may help."

"I'll have Josephine get one. But it won't work," Evuna'le said with a sigh, remembering.

Solas frowned. "Why would it not? Cole is clearly a spirit."

"He's become a bit too human. His hatred for the Templar that killed the true Cole, the mage child he came through to help, is holding him here."

"Ah. He will have to forgive the Templar," Solas replied sagely.

Evun'ale smiled. "That's what you always say. But he can also work through his anger. He can become fully human. If that's what he wants. "

"You are sure? I did not think it was possible with the Veil cutting spirits off from the Fade." Solas frowned in thought. 

"I am pretty sure. But I'll still get the amulet, so Cole can feel it for himself before he makes the decision. But maybe that will give you a new direction for your research."

He raised his eyebrows. "Indeed. But that is not chiefly why I came to find you." He took her hand and led her to the wall. "We are quite behind on our mural. I thought perhaps before we left, we might work on it."

Evun'ale grinned in response and pulled off her jacket. "Let's get to work."

****************

Late that night, Evan'ale and Solas stood admiring their work. It was already very different from the mural that she remembered from the game. The beginning was fairly similar. The temple of sacred ashes stood in the mountain pass. Evun'ale had painted the mages and templars at the bottom, and Solas had added her between them, holding up her hand in warning.

The next panel was the breach and the explosion, but now the wolf howled on one side and the Herald was depicted on the other, flanked by all her initial companions and counselors, almost as if they walked to the next panel, which was an Inquisition logo over scenes from the Hinterlands, Val Royeaux, the Storm Coast, and the Fallow Mire. These showed the recruitment of Sera, Vivienne, Blackwall and Iron Bull, as well as Mercy's Crest and the giant and the Storm Dragon fighting. 

There were other things too, things that were just for them. For, as Evun'ale had said, this was their story as well as that of the Inquisition. So if one looked closely, there could be seen the images of a pair of slender hands braiding hair, a beautiful flower in a jar, a cave in the rain, all linked by a sinuous silver line. The next major panel was of Redcliffe, and then the battle of Haven with the white wolf running through the snow at the bottom. Then came Adamant and the Gray Wardens and the fall into the Fade. Solas had depicted the meeting with Mythal and Evun'ale had painted the defeat of the Nightmare. But there was still something missing...

The she smiled. "I know..." she said, getting the green paint and kneeling at the bottom, right under where Solas had painted himself and Mythal shaking hands. Solas watched her work for a moment, frowning in confusion, and then he smiled and crouched down next to her with other colors, lending his own additions.

Finally, they both stood back, and Solas wrapped his arm around her waist as they looked at their work. Now at the bottom of the scene, there was a small area showing two pairs of hands lovingly surrounding a small green sprout, as if they had just planted it. "Now it's perfect," Evun'ale said, as she yawned.

Solas smiled gently and kissed her cheek. "I told you that your hand could only improve it, vhenan. It is the best thing I have ever done."


	28. Betrayal and the Bottom of a Bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caer Oswin and the confrontation with Lord Lucius. Evun'ale talks with Cassandra about the future of the Seekers. Then, after Sera and Iron Bull decide to throw a raucous party at the Herald's Rest, the Inquisitor convinces Solas to help her with the next step of her plan to set up Cassandra and Varric. Solas gets drunk in the attempt.

It was nearly a week before the four of them arrived at Caer Oswin. "I still find it odd that the trail led here, of all places," Cassandra said as they approached the keep, which was eerily quiet. It almost looked abandoned. "Bann Loren is a pious man, not overly involved in politics."

"Perhaps his piety was used against him. Even the most noble men may be manipulated by the clever," Solas said with a raised eyebrow.

"Spoken from experience, I take it, Solas?" Cassandra said with a smirk. "Perhaps the Dalish tales of Fen'harel are not completely without merit."

Solas smiled in response. "I never said that they were, only that they garbled more than they remembered."

"Wielding words woven of wild wishes, honeyed tongue requires little sweetener when it speaks what the ears long to hear. They knew him, his anger, his cleverness, but they were desperate to believe, and so he ensnared them in the web of their own making," Cole said in his soft voice.

"Just so," Solas said gravely, as Cassandra looked on with an expression of fascinated horror. 

"As they say, beware the anger of a quiet man," Evun'ale said with a chuckle. "But Bann Loren may be long dead, and we won't know until we're inside, so let's stop chatting and get to work."

"Of course, Inquisitor," Cassandra said, and they followed her up the overgrown path to the door. It was unlocked and luckily, the knight in the hallway was both facing away from them, and apparently deaf. Between Cole and Evun'ale, he was dead before he could make a sound, though the battle in the next room was still fierce. And judging by the look on Cassandra's face, she had an idea who their opposition was and it made her quite angry.

"The Order of Fiery Promise! How did they get involved? The bastards!" the Seeker said, kicking a discarded helmet with disgust. The rest of them studiously ignored her as she hopped around on one foot cursing about the pain. 

Once she had recovered, Evun'ale turned to the Seeker with a raised eyebrow. "So, who are these.. Fiery Promise people exactly? You seem to know them."

"They are a cult, Andrastian in name only," Cassandra replied irritably. "They have been around since before the Second Blight. They believe that the world is doomed to perish in a fiery apocalypse and only then will the Maker return to create a paradise on earth."

"Well, that's cheery," Evun'ale said wryly. "Do they have something against the Seekers?"

"Their aim is to bring about said fiery apocalypse by any means necessary. The Seekers have been trying to wipe them out since our founding. But they keep coming back. Like roaches."

"Welcome to the Chantry edition of Family Feud," Evun'ale muttered to herself, earning a confused look from everyone except Cole.

"If the Promisers are involved, I have no doubt the Seekers are in danger. Let us waste no more time," Cassandra said firmly, and they followed her through the rest of the keep. There were other member of the heretic cult in every room, but no clues as to their purpose until they'd cleared out the throne room and started up the stairs.

"Cassandra? Is it really you? Is this another dream?" said a weak voice from the floor.

She ran to the fallen Seeker, her face stricken. "Daniel! What have they done to you?"

She knelt beside the young warrior, nearly weeping, so deep was her distress. "They fed me something. I can feel it... growing. You have to find the Lord Seeker, Cassandra."

"Of course, Daniel. That's why we came. Lord Seeker Lucius will stop this."

"No. The Lord Seeker betrayed us, Cassandra. He called us here, one by one. A very important mission he said. He sold us to the Promisers," Daniel said, before coughing up blood. Evun'ale looked away, burying her face in Solas's shoulder for a moment.

Cassandra shook her head slowly, disbelief warring with horrible realization. "But we saw the Lord Seeker in Val Royeaux not that long ago. The Seekers had already been disappearing for nearly a year."

"That wasn't the real Lord Seeker," Daniel said hoarsely. "He let a demon impersonate him."

"He was acting fairly strangely," Evun'ale said, remembering his bizarre reaction to both the Chantry mother and to Cassandra.

She actually let out a sob. "Oh Daniel. Yo should have come with me. You were always true to our ideals."

"You know me, had to get that promotion," Daniel coughed. 

"It's not too late. We can get you healing. Solas is a mage, he..." Cassandra looked up at them, and Solas shook his head subtly.

"No, I am dying. I can feel it, spreading," Daniel said. "You have to let me go. While I'm still me."

"Gnawing, biting, splinters of hate in the heart. A blade will be swifter, kinder. Sorry I did not make you proud, in the end," Cole said quietly. Cassandra looked at him with a heartbroken expression, but she nodded.

"I am sorry, Daniel. Lucius will pay for his crimes." Evun'ale turned away again, Solas cradling her head, his own expression pained. "Go safely to the Maker. You served him bravely. We are both proud," she heard Cassandra say. There was the snick of a blade, a wet gurgle, and it was done. 

They were all silent for several moments as Cassandra cleaned her blade, her expression thunderous. "Are you going to be all right, Cassandra?" Evun'ale finally asked.

"Daniel was my apprentice. He was a good lad. One of the best... We must stop this now." They all nodded and followed her up the stairs, expressions grim.

**************

The battle with the Lord Seeker was quick and dirty. Lucius had made a pretty speech about a new world he would create, but the man was clearly insane. He was fueled by zealous faith, but Cassandra had that too, as well as anger. She killed him without help or remorse, the others merely keeping his lackeys out of her way. When he lay on the ground, she picked the Book of the Lord Seeker off his corpse, holding it with a mixture of reverence and revulsion.  
"I still cannot truly believe it. The Lord Seeker... he destroyed the Order. They were my family... they cannot all be gone..." Cassandra said sadly. "We were always scattered to the winds. Perhaps there are survivors."

It was Solas who put his hand on the Seeker's shoulder. "Of course, you will not give up on them. And we will help you look. But we should return to Skyhold."

Cassandra looked at him with surprise and gratitude. "Thank you, Solas. You are right. There is nothing further to be gained here."

******************

When they did reach the fortress, Varric and the others had not yet returned. "They are on their way back as well," Leiliana told them. "The carta has been mining red lyrium in the deep roads. Using a key Bianca gave them. They've shut the path, so that will dry up supplies for a while, but..."

"It's only a matter of time before someone finds a new path," Evun'ale finished with a sigh. "And I'm sure Varric is a wreck."

Solas raised his eyebrows when Evun'ale told him about it. "So that's what you meant about Varric returning from Valhammar. A rude awakening for him, to be sure."

"Yeah, he's been carrying that torch for a long time. And it was never going to work," Evun'ale said, grimacing and shaking her head.

"Pining after unattainable loves. Something you would know nothing about, vhenan," he said with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Hey, I have succeeded, after all. You can't call my pining futile when I'm sitting right here in your lap and you've promised to stay with me forever and aid me in my quest."

"And what quest is that?" he asked wryly, his eyes twinkling as he kissed the top of her head. 

"You know," she said, looking up into his eyes with a grin. "Repopulating the world with little Fen'harel's."

"Oh," he said, his cheeks reddening, making him look both young and impossibly adorable. "Yes. That quest." His hands brushed her belly with careful adoration. There was no outward difference, except that her breasts were, to him, a little fuller than usual. But he could feel the flicker of life within, growing stronger every day, still just a feather light whisper. Soon, Evun'ale would be able to feel with her magic too, but it would be months yet before the child would be big enough to make its presence felt physically. With any luck, Corypheus would be defeated by that time.

She noticed where his hand lingered, and she put one of her hands over his while the other reached up to cup his cheek. "We've made a good start on it already," she whispered.

"A much more pleasant endeavor than I am usually bound to, 'ma lath," he replied with a hum of pleasure. "But you should not remain here too long. You have not spoken to Cassandra since her return, and of all of us, I believe that she will accept comfort from you most readily."

Solas was right of course, and that had been her intention before she had got side-tracked by the mere sight of him. She kissed him once more and headed over to the smithy.

Cassandra was bent over her desk with a thunderstruck expression. "Inquisitor, I am glad you you came by. This book.... Well, it is not what I expected."

"Let me guess, it's actually a really trashy romance novel," Evun'ale said with a crooked grin.

Cassandra let out an explosive snort of laughter, which was the intention. "No," she said with a sigh. "That would have been better." She looked out the window, as if the view of the sun over the Frostbacks would give her guidance or comfort. 

"This book has been passed down from each lord Seeker to the next since the founding of the Order. It is a tale of an organization which started with noble goals: To protect the innocent, mages, templars, regular citizens. To find the truth. But over time, our purpose was corrupted. The Seekers became more concerned with preserving their power than pursuing their ideals."

"According to Solas, that is the fate of every large organization. To become corrupted by their own power."

"He would know, I suppose," Cassandra replied, sighing. "But that's not the fact that truly troubles me. You remember all the nonsense with the rite of Tranquility? Everyone blames Anders and the explosion of the Kirkwall Chantry as the reason for the conflict between mages and templars. But that was only part of the tale."

"Weren't there rumors that the rite of Tranquility could be reversed?"

"Yes. When the Lord Seeker tried to eliminate the evidence, that's when the college of Enchanters finally voted to separate from the Chantry. There were deaths. And the Divine let the mages go, which enraged the Templars so much, they also left. And that's how this whole mess began."

"Sounds like a barrel of laughs," Evun'ale said with a raised eyebrow.

"Right," Cassandra agreed, rolling her eyes. "But I always thought there was equal blame to go around. The Seekers could not have predicted that Tranquility could be reversed, and it was right for us to be cautious. What if it was a fluke?"

"Sounds reasonable," Evun'ale replied, fiddling with a dagger on the Seeker's desk.

"Except that was all a lie. The Seekers have known the Rite could be reversed all along. We invented it. That's what the Seeker's Vigil is. We are made Tranquil without our knowledge, and then we fast and pray in order to attract a spirit of Faith to restore our connection to the Fade. That is what gives us our abilities."

"Damn. So Lambert could have come clean about Tranquility long ago. Maybe the war could have been prevented," Evun'ale said with a sigh.

"That was my thought also. We could have handled Kirkwall better as well. The abuses of Meredith were well known, but we heard such awful tales about blood magic and abominations.... I don't know. It has left a bad taste in my mouth. Maybe Lucius was right. The Order should have been disbanded long ago."

"Maybe. But you could rebuild it. Make it better. It's never too late until you stop trying." Cassandra sighed, pursing her lips together thoughtfully. Then she nodded.

"After Corypheus is defeated, perhaps I will. But everyone will read this book. No more secrets. The Seekers will be re-dedicated to protecting the innocents, and we will investigate reversing Tranquility on mages. It affects them differently, makes them emotionally unstable. It will require research," Cassandra said thoughtfully.

"See, you don't really think the Seekers should be disbanded. If anybody can fix the Order, it is you."

"Thank you, Evun'ale. You have been a good friend as well as a leader. I do not know where you find so much courage and compassion."

"I think you're overestimating my good qualities," she replied with a snort.

"No, I am serious. Look at what you have done. Stopped the war between mages and Templars, made peace in Orlais, you saved the Gray Wardens from themselves and gave them a new purpose. And goodness, just the fact that you have tamed the Dread Wolf with your love, as Varric put it. The bards will be singing about it for centuries," Cassandra said with a laugh.

"I had help with all that. I couldn't have done it alone," Evun'ale said, laughing. "Except, you know, for the last bit," she added. "Still, you'd be amazed what a little love and understanding can do, Cassandra. The Dread Wolf wasn't so hard to tame. Solas just needed someone to listen to him with an open mind and heart. That's something everyone needs."

"Hmmm. That seems too simple. But perhaps you are right," Cassandra said. Evun'ale hoped that Cassandra might think of this conversation the next time she spoke to Varric.

***************

The others returned two days later, tired and wanting to wash the memory of the Deep Roads from their minds as well as their bodies. Sera and Iron Bull decided to throw a party in the Herald's Rest.

"Oooh. This is perfect. Just need to get Cassandra and Varric drunk," Evun'ale said, rubbing her hands together with an evil grin.

"Are you certain this is a good idea?" Solas said with a frown. "You are not supposed to be drinking."

"I know. I'll have tea. The nice, discreet, healer from the Hinterlands gave me a recipe for ginger tea that isn't too bad. Cassandra is oblivious. You'll have to work on Varric."

"I? Since when have I been complicit in your designs? I am content for Master Tethras to marry his crossbow if that is what brings him happiness," Solas said, putting his book down and fixing her with an exasperated scowl.

"Oh, come on. You know you love a challenge. Tricking Varric and Cassandra in admitting their feelings will be your greatest achievement," she said, sauntering over to sit in his lap.

"You are trying to bribe me into cooperating with your schemes," he said archly as she straddled his lap with an innocent smile and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Maybe. Is it working?" She pressed her lips to his and he could not remain indifferent, his arms moving to hold her, to cradle her head in his hands and press her against his chest until they were both left gasping.

"Perhaps," he admitted, his voice rough. "I find your argument surprisingly persuasive."

"Hmmmm. Well, I have several more examples. Some proofs and diagrams. Upstairs, if you're interested," she breathed into his ear, before standing and walking out of the rotunda with a saucy sway to her hips. Solas frowned after her, thinking that it was surely a crime for someone to be that attractive and clever. But he followed a moment later, trying to appear nonchalant about it.

So that was why, later that night, he found himself sitting next to Varric at a bar. "I never thought I'd see you in here, Chuckles. You don't seem the type."

"I have nothing against drinking, but it is true that I am not the most social person. But the Inquisitor insisted." That was not even a lie, and he had enjoyed her style of debate immensely. 

"Well, you can hardly argue with a will like that, can you? Maker's balls, but even I'd walk through fire for the Inquisitor, and I haven't been near her bedroom," Varric said, laughing and clapping him on the back. His ears turned red but he just shook his head. "What are you going to drink, Chuckles?"

"I found some interesting bottles in the cellar, Master Tethras. Would you like to sample the rarer spirits of Thedas?" Solas said, pulling a few bottles out of his bag. They were twisted, dusty, and sealed with aged wax.

"I don't know. I've got out of the habit, you know," Varric said with a melancholy sigh. 

"Indulge me, if you will. I heard you had a difficult time in the Deep Roads, and I have been assured that this wine is spectacular. If I am going to be stuck with a bunch of drunken fools all evening, I prefer to imbibe something worthwhile."

"All right, I admit, you've piqued my interest. Hit me with your best."

He smiled and poured them each a glass from the first bottle. It was... green. "This is called Absence, I believe. It is an herbal cordial of some kind. Evun'ale seemed to find it amusing."

Varric picked up the glass and eyed it critically. "To strong-willed women," he said, raising his glass and drinking.

**************

Meanwhile, the rest of the Inquisition was sitting around a table, listening to Iron Bull tell a story that seemed to involve a lot of naked women and explosions. Evun'ale was nursing her ginger tea, Cole helpfully assisting in her deception. Somehow, Solas had made him see that it was important to keep certain information to himself. He had a way of talking to Cole that made him listen and remember. Evun'ale supposed it helped that he had once been a spirit as well.

"So then this guy says, 'the Vints are coming this way,' and I'm holding this dead magister by the neck like, no shit?" Everyone at the table laughed. 

"Now, it is clearly the Inquisitor's turn to tell a story," Dorian said with a grin, his arm draped around the neck of a certain Dalish hunter. 

"Oh, come on, guys. I haven't done anything exciting that you guys haven't been around for. I am boring," she protested grumpily.

"What was that I heard about the Forbidden Oasis, Boss? Blackwall can still not even hear the place mentioned without blushing," Iron Bull said, elbowing Blackwall roughly, as his face was already red at the memory.

"I am not telling you the details of my love life," she spluttered, her face red. "How about Cassandra and Dorian can spill the beans about the trouble they claimed Solas was getting them into in Val Royeaux."

"Oh that," Dorian said with a chuckle. "After you and Josephine went in for your secret meeting, he used magic to jump onto a balcony so we could spy on you. That wasn't even the funny part. He made us invisible and we listened at the window a while. I'm surprised there weren't a bunch of sweaty ear prints giving us away. But anyway, the conversation ends, and your lover jumps from the roof, no big deal. And Cassandra freezes."

"I did no such thing, Dorian. You are full of lies," the Seeker said, blushing. 

"I am not jumping down there, Solas. It has got to be at least ten feet," Dorian said, a passable imitation of Cassandra that made everyone laugh. "So Solas, being the gentleman that he is, offers to catch her, if she is afraid. You should have seen her face. She blushed like he had just proposed marriage. 'No, thank you, Solas,' she says, all flustered, and jumps down herself."

Cassandra gaped like a fish. "I only thought.. I did not want..." she stammered, her face even redder. "I still want to know where you and Solas were hiding that evening. You never said, and both Dorian and Josephine seem to find the subject extremely amusing."

Evun'ale nearly snorted out her tea. "It is none of your business, I'm sure," she said archly.

Josephine grinned. "I can answer this one. Cassandra and I were looking for them, and a merchant had told us he'd seen an elven couple dressed in expensive clothes walk up onto the terrace, not ten minutes previously. So we went up there ourselves, but it seemed deserted."

"It was deserted!" Cassandra said. "And I said, how many finely dressed elven couples can there be? And Josephine gave me a dirty look."

"Hush, I am telling this story. So after the Seeker's insensitive remark, she starts ranting about how's it's the simple truth, not at all rude. But I had thought I heard a noise. A gasp perhaps, and a familiar laugh. So I looked around, while Cassandra was snorting like an angry bull, and what do I see behind her but a lover's alcove."

Dorian laughed. "Please tell me you didn't interrupt them. That is cruel and unusual punishment."

"No," Josephine said with a giggle. "But as I watched, I saw a set of long slender fingers gripping the frame of the archway for a moment, and it immediately reminded me of a certain elven apostate. So I told Cassandra they obviously weren't there and that we should go back to the inn."

Evun'ale buried her face in her hands as the entire table roared with laughter. Except Cassandra, who scowled. "I knew it!"

***************

Solas and Varric had now moved on to a new bottle, a bottle of old Ferelden wine called Finale.

"Can you believe, after I told her what happened to Bartrand, Bianca went and told some Gray Warden mage about the red lyrium? Who turned out to be Corypheus in disguise? Fuck. I thought she was the one person I could trust."

"Curiosity can drive people to do strange things," Solas said fuzzily, looking sadly at his empty glass before dumping the rest of the bottle in it. "Still, it seems as though she is focused on her own best interests. You did say her family was fairly cutthroat. Perhaps she feels she must, to survive."

"Her family is a bunch of shitheads. But I'm through with them. I'm sticking with my crossbow from now on. Relationships are nothing but trouble," Varric opined, also looking sadly at an empty glass. Solas wordlessly handed him the next bottle. "Sun Blonde Vint-1," he said, peering at the label critically. "Sounds expensive."

"Despite my years, I cannot claim to be an expert on romantic relations. But I would certainly caution against swearing them off entirely," he said, draining his glass so that Varric could fill it with the new wine. "After all, had I continued my self-imposed isolation, I would have missed the greatest joy that I have yet known. Sometimes the thing you do not know you are looking for is found where you least expect it."

He turned to look at the Inquisitor, who was laughing at something while Dorian looked abashed, and Varric's gaze followed his. Both of them stared for a moment, a strange look passing over Varric's face when Cassandra smiled at something that Josephine said. "Maybe you're right, Chuckles. Another toast! To unexpected surprises."

******************

Evun'ale laughed as Cassandra sagged onto her shoulder. "Come on, let's just go over here. I need to talk to Solas."

"I'm sure talking is all you'll be doing," Cassandra said with a snort, but the Seeker managed to stagger over to the bar.

"Oh, Inquisitor, we were just talking about you," Varric said, his speech slightly slurred, but seeming remarkably lucid.

"Were you? Saying anything interesting, my love?" she asked Solas. He peered at her, his gray eyes slightly unfocused.

"He was just telling me something I didn't entirely understand about the Fade and planting seeds there. I think it's time you took him to bed."

"Hmmmm... yes. I enjoy it there very much," Solas agreed. "Not only for sleeping, beds..."

Evun'ale shook her head. "Fine, I'll trade you. One tipsy Seeker, for one drunk Fen'harel."

"Deal," Varric said with a grin. "Maybe I can get her to tell me that story about the apostates in the Nevarran circle that I heard last year. I know she knows more than she'll say."

Evun'ale shoved Cassandra toward the bar. "Have a seat, Seeker. Have you ever tried this stuff? Solas brought it up from the basement," Varric said with an innocent grin.

"You had better not poison me, Varric," Cassandra said, but there was no rancor in it. Evun'ale supposed it was a start. Maybe her plan would actually work.

"Come on, you," Evun'ale said to Solas, pulling him up by his hands. "I think you might have overdone it a bit."

"Nonsense," he replied blearily. "I am fine. I have just been sitting too long, and my legs have gone to sleep." He leaned alarmingly, and she put her arm around his waist to steady him.

"Sure, sure, tell me that again in the morning," she said, laughing. "Let's get you in bed before you blather our secrets all over Skyhold."

"I would never do such a thing," he said as she half-dragged, half-shoved him out the door.

"I said get Varric drunk, not get yourself drunk," Evun'ale said a few minutes later, torn between exasperation and breathless laughter as they tried to get up the stairs to the keep. "I don't think we're going to make it all the way to our bedroom."

"I might have overestimated my drinking abilities. It has been a while," he admitted. "I do not remember these stairs being quite so uneven."

Finally, they made it into the main hall. But there were about a thousand stairs left to go. _Screw that._ Evun'ale thought and she led Solas into the rotunda. 

"This is not where the bed is, vhenan," he said amiably.

"No," she laughed. "But we can sleep here for one night."

"Will that not scandalize the entire Inquisition?" he asked dreamily, but unprotesting as she pulled off his jacket and tunic.

"We're long past that, 'ma lath," she said, with a chuckle and a loving smile, brushing his cheek with her hand before leading him to the couch. "Come on over here, Mr. Drunk Wolf. Time for bed."

"I do not think that wolves can get drunk," he offered mildly as he laid down next to her on the couch. "They lack the ability to process alcohol."

Evun'ale sighed, but she curled into the crook of his arm, laying her hand flat on his chest. His heart beat in the same steady, reassuring rhythm as usual and he placed his hand over hers. "Ar lath ma, Solas," she said, but he was already asleep.


	29. No Mercy in Atonement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see Varric and Cassandra talking at the bar. Everyone recovers from their overindulgence, and then they discover that Blackwall is missing. They travel to Val Royeaux to see where he has gone.

Varric had not been that drunk, though it was certainly more drunk than he had been in a long time. After what happened to his mother he had steered away from alcohol, but the opportunity to drink with Fen'harel was an opportunity he could not pass up. Unfortunately, intoxication seemed to make Solas more cryptic rather than less. Varric felt that he might have actually learned a significant amount if he could have made sense of anything the man was saying.

Then the Inquisitor had brought Cassandra over, almost like she'd magically known his thoughts. Almost as if this had been their plan all along, he thought with a sudden wry realization. But he found he didn't mind. In fact, it touched his heart, something he thought was near impossible. That the Inquisitor cared enough about his and the Seeker's happiness to try and set them up. And she'd convinced Solas to cooperate, a minor feat in itself. Though Varric had a feeling that she hadn't expected him to get quite so drunk. 

He supposed that when you were in love, it seemed right that everyone should be, he thought as he watched Evun'ale escort her inebriated lover out of the bar. Then he turned to Cassandra. She was already well on her way to being spectacularly drunk, but she looked drawn and weary. He poured her a glass of the next bottle. What was it? Carnal. Because of course it was. Varric shrugged and filled his glass as well.

"Solas said that Caer Oswin was difficult for you," Varric said carefully as he handed her the glass. "You want to talk about it?"

"I don't want to be a subject of your next book," Cassandra said bitterly. "At least, not for this."

"I was asking as a friend, Seeker. Off the record. Besides, I'm busy working on something else right now," he added, remembering with a grin. He supposed the book was part of the Inquisitor's master plan too.

Cassandra sighed. "I'm sorry, Varric. I'm afraid that drinking does not make me better company. I do not mean to be so snappish."

"Hey, you'd hardly be the Seeker we all know and love if you weren't a little bit prickly," Varric said, and he felt himself blush. Blush, him, after everything he'd seen and done. 

But Cassandra did not notice. Instead she laughed. "I suppose that is true. Our experiences have changed us, but not that much." She sighed again, her expression solemn. "It was awful. The Lord Seeker betrayed the Order. Killed the Seekers one by one, selling them to our worst enemy. Torturing them by feeding them red lyrium," her voice had become a choking sob. 

Varric put a comforting hand on her shoulder, and to his surprise, she turned into his chest, tears running down her face. "My apprentice, Daniel, we found him there. Still alive, Blessed Andraste. I had to kill him, for mercy! All the time, we were being lied to, Varric. Did Solas tell you that? I was made Tranquil. That is how I became a Seeker."

"Maker's Balls," Varric whispered. "That is one hell of a lie." He was a bit unsure how to handle this sudden embrace because he had a feeling Cassandra was going to hate herself in the morning, but finally he shrugged, figuring he might as be in all the way. He wrapped an arm around her, patting her back. "I'm sorry, Cassandra, for what it's worth. No one should have to go through that."

"I..." she looked up at him, frowning. as if she suddenly remembered whose chest she was crying against. "You called me Cassandra. You never call me by my name."

He smiled wryly, feeling she'd caught him out. "Maybe I'm getting used to the idea of us being friends rather than enemies."

She sat up again, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, and Varric was a bit sad for it. Evun'ale would be pleased if she knew how much he'd enjoyed the feeling of Cassandra pressed against him. But then she smiled at him. Maker, a real smile, and Varric was rendered nearly speechless. Luckily, Cassandra spoke, so she didn't notice how her simple expression had affected him. "We were never enemies, Varric. I am sorry that you ever thought that we were. And it is my fault entirely. As the Inquisitor helpfully informed me, I can be a bit... scary when i am upset."

He laughed in response. "Understatement of the century there. But I forgive you. Since the Inquisitor told me I'm a hairy chested ass, I'm sure I deserved every bit of your anger."

Cassandra snorted. "She did tell me that she almost tossed you over the wall. What did you say to her?"

"Drink your drink, and I'll tell you."

Several hours later, the two of them stumbled out of the Herald's Rest together, laughing. "I can't believe they were all naked!"

"As the day they were born. And Isabela, of course, didn't even blush. Chided us for not knocking," Varric said, grinning at the memory. "Even Hawke was speechless. And finally Fenris growled something about thinking whores had better standards, and Daisy busted up laughing, and we were all lost. Had to come back later to talk to the guy."

"And did he know where the man's wife was?" Cassandra asked, her face red.

"No. That story has a sad ending," Varric said with a sigh. "I'll tell you some other time, if you're interested."

"I will hold you to that promise, Varric," Cassandra said, weaving dangerously on her feet, even with the support of Varric's shoulder. "You know I will."

"You always do. Now, may I escort you to your chamber, Lady Pentaghast, or can you get there without dying?"

Cassandra snorted. "Somehow, it bothers me less to have you call me that. Perhaps because I know it is sarcastic. No. I am perfectly capable of getting to bed on my own, thank you." She waved him off, took two wobbly steps and then passed out cold.

"Shit." 

*************

It wasn't that she was heavy. She was, for a woman, but Varric was strong, so he didn't mind that. But she was so Maker-blasted tall, he could hardly get her through the doorway. And then all the damned stairs.

 _Who wears armor to a bar?_ he thought to himself as he unbuckled her breastplate. _Only Cassandra._ his mind answered helpfully. _You're the one who fell in love with a mad warrior woman._

Love? Was that what this was? It couldn't be, he thought irritably, as he wiped the mud from Cassandra's face and put her in her bed, tucking her under the blankets. It was different than what he had felt with Bianca. That had been a consuming need, an inferno that had finally faded to a candle that had burned every night in his thoughts. Now snuffed out, he thought, bitterly. He had risked so much for her, given everything, and it had not been enough.

What he felt now? It was like a flower, a seed grown in the darkness, now unfolding with a surprising gentle tenderness. He certainly cared for Cassandra, that he could admit. It was terribly cliche, wasn't it? The antagonists, whose bickering conceals a mutual infatuation. 

_But it is more than that, isn't it?_ he thought as he settled in a chair across from the bed, unwilling to leave her alone in the state she was in. They had been through so much together. Terrifying, life changing things. And he had seen Cassandra, her strength and bravery, the force of her will. But he had seen something else too. She had such heart, and no matter how stiff she seemed, how zealous her faith, she was willing to bend, to change. She had surprised him.

Varric remembered that Solas had said that about Evun'ale. That she had surprised him at every turn. He doubted every relationship was formed around defied expectations, but maybe if you had lived as long as Solas, or seen as much shit as Varric himself had, it took a bit of surprise for someone to attract your notice.

He sighed. The Inquisitor had seen it before he had realized it himself, but did Cassandra? Would she acknowledge it if she did? That was the question that plagued him as he fell asleep.

***********

Solas's dreams had been strange, disjointed and fuzzy. And waking was worse. "Void take me," he groaned, as the light assaulted his eyes, slanting in from the library windows upstairs and hitting him right in the face. His tongue felt like it was coated in grime and his head was pounding with every heartbeat. He threw his arms over his face and tried to roll over only to nearly fall off the couch. Of course. He remembered the night before somewhat vaguely. He had been too drunk to go up the stairs and Evun'ale had put him to bed here.

She was gone now, likely already meeting with her War Council. He rolled over and buried his face in the pillows.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," came her familiar voice from behind him, mercifully quiet.

"No," he said, sounding more petulant than he had intended, pulling the blanket over his head. "There will no rising today. Certainly no shining."

He heard her steps approach him and then felt her lean over, pulling the blankets back to press a gentle kiss on his temple. Her lips were cool and soft. "I know you don't feel well, 'ma lath. But half of your problem is dehydration and protein deficiency. You need to eat some breakfast."

The very thought made his stomach roil unpleasantly. "That is the last thing that I want. If you truly love me, you will grant me a merciful death."

She laughed and pulled him upright despite his protests, placing a cold mug of water in his hands, which he pressed to his forehead. It felt amazing. He sighed and took a sip. At least it washed the bad taste from his throat. 

He knew she was right, it wasn't as if he had never been hung over before, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Besides, he was getting a bit old for such foolishness. She sat down next to him once he had drank half of the water and was eating scrambled eggs, which seemed to taste better with every bite. Solas didn't even normally like eggs.

"Feeling better?" she asked, leaning her head against his shoulder. He looked at her, the remainder of his irritation erased by the evidence of her own fatigue. She had likely not gotten much sleep and it made him feel ashamed. He needed to take better care of her.

Putting down his plate, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. "Yes, somewhat. I no longer feel like death is the better option," he said with a chuckle. "Ma serannas, vhenan. I should be the one looking after your health."

She smiled. "I'm all right, just a bit tired. But I don't mind taking care of you, Solas. Even if you are a grumpy patient," she teased.

"You may have noticed that I am not a morning person on the best of days. But did your schemes bear any fruit? I seem to remember that you left Cassandra in Varric's care."

Evun'ale sighed. "I hope so. It's hard to tell. Cassandra is already up in the practicing yard, beating the crap out of some poor recruits. But she seems.. subdued, and its hard to tell whether that's the hangover or something else."

*************

Cassandra had awoken with a start, blinking. She was in her own bed. She felt like shit. Her last memory had been what? Varric was telling her a story and then... nothing. And now, she was in bed, wearing only her tunic and breeches. Her armor was one the armor stand. Cassandra was not an idiot. She had been in no shape to do that herself so...

There he was, asleep in the chair in the corner. Watching over her. A confused sigh erupted from her mouth. She had misjudged Varric from the start, much as she had misjudged the Inquisitor, and Solas. And Dorian. Rushing to judgement, letting her prejudices blind her. And what had Evun'ale said? That all Solas had needed was someone to listen to him, with an open mind, an open heart?

Varric had given her that last night, she remembered, about the Seekers and Daniel, and... everything. But she had not asked him about Bianca, though she had heard the rumors. Perhaps that had not been a chance comment on the Inquisitor's part, perhaps... No. That was a ridiculous thought.

Cassandra stood up, stretching, feeling as stiff as if she had just battled a hundred dragons, but her heart was strangely light. She looked at Varric, frowning in his sleep. Dwarves did not dream, she had been told. A strange thought. But even asleep, it was clear his mind was not idle. She wondered where he did go, if not to the Fade? Did he think of that brief moment, the night before, when he had held her while she cried? A blush crept over her cheeks. It had seemed a friendly moment of comfort at the time, but her dreams had taken it in a much different direction.

 _Stupid, that's what you are._ she grumbled to herself, leaving the room quietly and going to the Keep.

When Varric awoke several hours later, he found himself alone, with a breakfast tray awaiting him. His eyes widened. Had Cassandra left this for him? There was a glass of water and a glass of wine along with eggs bacon and fried potatoes. Hair of the dog.. that seemed like her. 

As he ate, his mind wandered. What was she thinking right now? Was she angry, embarrassed? Did she remember anything? Had her dreams been...

No. He wasn't going to think about that. Only Solas knew that he was one of the few dwarves who dreamed. A lifetime above the surface and time stuck in the Fade had done that to him. It wasn't every night, but, as Solas apparently knew, it was not the first time Cassandra had featured in his dreams. He had dismissed it as a weirdness of the Fade. There was nothing about that place that wasn't strange. And maybe that was all it was. But maybe it was more.

After he ate, he snuck back to his own room via the battlements and took a bath. He was sure everyone would be getting a late start today. Although, come to think of it, the Inquisitor had not seemed drunk at all. And wasn't that strange?

************

She had gone to ask Blackwall about something. What was it? Oh, if he needed new armor. And he hadn't been there. Nothing but a cryptic note stuck to the griffon he'd been carving. And then Leiliana's scout had told her about the missing report, about the man who was going to be hanged. 

"Oh right. Great timing, Thom," she muttered to herself. She gathered Solas, Dorian and Cole, and they headed to Val Royeaux with Cullen, who rode with the coachman. Apparently carriages made him feel ill.

"So, how exactly do you know all this?" Dorian asked Evun'ale with a frown, after she had explained Blackwall's true identity. "I know it's not Leiliana's doing, as I'm sure she would have been more on the ball."

"Actually, she might know. But maybe she thought he deserved his chance at atonement. If I told you how I knew, you wouldn't believe me."

Dorian frowned at Solas, who shrugged. "I hardly believe it, and I am sure it is true, because it is partly my fault."

"Just try me. I'm terribly curious and you have to admit that I took the whole Fen'harel thing fairly well."

"Though you apparently cannot keep a secret to save your life," Solas remarked dryly, eliciting a grin from both Evun'ale and Dorian.

"All right, fine. I came from another world. In my world, all these events, they're a game. I've played it before. I know how it ends. So I have some knowledge of future events, though my coming here has caused some.... significant deviations." Solas grasped her fingers and smiled at her. The adoring grin that she gave him in return would have been nauseating if Dorian had been less contented with his own love life.

"Another world? What does that even mean?" Dorian said with a frown. "There have been some wild theories... parallel universes and things like that, all dismissed by the Chantry as rank heresy. And you're saying they're true."

She nodded. "My world doesn't have magic. We have advanced technology instead."

"Fascinating. But I thought the other universes were not supposed to interact. Your being here is breaking about a thousand natural laws," Dorian said in wonderment.

Solas nodded. "Normally, they do not touch, except perhaps at whatever the point of origin is. But Mythal was able to bridge the gap, apparently. Perhaps because of the bond that Evun'ale and I share. It is very rare, and apparently not even that much separation is enough to break it."

"What bond? And what does Mythal have to do with all of this. I thought you said the elven gods weren't real."

"I did not say they weren't real. I said they were not divine beings. Just powerful mages, rulers who were worshiped over time. Mythal was murdered, betrayed by her own husband and children, but the first of the People do not die so easily. Her spirit endured. And she has seen fit to offer me aid unlooked for," he said with a sigh.

"Why? Seems awfully charitable of her, considering you were apparently trying to destroy her power base," Dorian said with a laugh.

"Yes," Solas admitted with a chuckle. "It was not entirely without price. However, Mythal and I are old friends and allies. I was once her sentinel, ages upon ages ago. But more than that, she was seeking to rectify my mistakes. You have seen that time magic does work."

"According to Alexius, only back to the point of the Breach. But yes."

"That is not entirely true. It is only that the power required to make it turn back farther is enormous. But the lives and power of two ancient mages are apparently just enough," Solas replied, grimacing.

"You gave your life to turn back time. You and Mythal?" Dorian asked, gasping. "But why? Did Corypheus win?"

"No," he said, shaking his head with a sigh. "I did. I brought down the Veil. It was a disaster. I nearly destroyed the world. I gave my life to Mythal so that we could go back. But she brought Evun'ale here, to ensure that I did not make the same mistake twice." Solas squeezed Evun'ale fingers. "We are bound, heart to heart, through the Fade. You can even see it, if you know what to look for. Mythal knew that if anything could make me realize that bringing down the Veil was wrong, it was her."

"Well. That's cheery. Amazing though. It's a lot to take in." Dorian said, glancing out the window at the countryside rolling by.

"There are other worlds to see, explore. Does that mean there are other me's? Or just the one?" Cole said dreamily.

Evun'ale grinned. "Oh Dorian, you know there's only one you. There's only room for one, even in multiple universes."

He snorted. "Perhaps you're right. But the way I understood the theory, a new universe is created with every decision."

"I couldn't say. If that was the case in my universe, it was a decision made a long time ago that separated our worlds."

************

They arrived in Val Royeaux and got to the main square just in time for the hanging. It was all set to be a grim spectacle, the executioner reading the charges, which were certainly serious, and the condemned staring blankly out at the masses. He had accepted his fate.

And then, Blackwall stepped up. Everyone assumed that the Gray Warden had come to conscript the criminal, though this particular condemned man seemed rather pathetic for even the Wardens to want. But then, Blackwall came clean.

"I gave the order. Warden Blackwall is dead. Has been for years. I am Thom Rainier."

The guards took him to prison, and Evun'ale and the others followed. It was several hours before they could get into see him. Solas suggested that she go in alone. "I am sure he does not want any of us to see him that way."

She shrugged. "Maybe you're right. You don't have to come in. But, it's time for him to face himself. He may as well start now."

Dorian laughed. "You're a harsh mistress, Inquisitor. But she's probably right, Solas. Even you've been more open about your history than he has. And it might do him some good to see that we haven't all abandoned him."

So all four of them went into the prison and stood in front of Blackwall... Thom Rainer's cell. "Why are you here, Inquisitor? You are the one who said I should atone for my actions, instead of letting my men pay the price."

"I am glad you saved that man from execution, Thom," she said gently. "But when I said atone, I didn't mean offer yourself as a lamb for slaughter. You aren't helping anyone that way."

"Surely crimes as monstrous as mine deserve punishment." Thom said bitterly. "I killed women and children for coin. I didn't know his family would be there, but still."

"The Inquisitor rarely delivers death as a punishment. Even you should see that by now," Solas said gravely. "It is not only mercy. She would have you do real good rather than simply provide a grim cautionary tale."

"Exactly," Evun'ale said. "Time to really face your actions, Thom. Death is just another way to run away. Leiliana and Josephine will get you out of here, and send you back to Skyhold. We'll meet you there when we return from the Emerald Graves. We don't have the time to wait for the wheels of bureaucracy to turn. When I return, we'll talk again."

Thom Rainier sighed. "Thank you, Inquisitor. And you all. I didn't expect you to come."

Solas arched an eyebrow. "Surely you did not think I, of all people, would be horrified by your crimes. It does.. disappoint me to know that you did this simply to line your own pocket. However, I believe that you have tried, at least, to atone for your actions to some extent already."

Dorian chuckled. "None of us here are innocents, Thom. Just look what my people have done in the name of the Imperium. Enslaving children. Blood sacrifice. I may have not personally done any of these things. But I have stood by and allowed it. I think our Inquisitor would see us all become better."

"Her spirit burns bright, attracting our hurts. She sees our heart, the best in each, and she draws it out, makes it shine," Cole said quietly.

Evun'ale blushed. "I think that's enough waxing poetic about me. Look Thom, execution is a waste. You can do more for the world than die. And you will. We'll see you back at Skyhold."

They spoke to Cullen briefly and left the prison, taking a few hours to stroll through the shops. Of course, Evun'ale and Solas had to stop at their favorite bakery. 

Then they were on their way back to Skyhold, with a box of cakes and some truffles. "Oooooh. Try this one. It's got all sort of spices in it. Like curry."

"Is that another think from your strange world that none of us will understand?" Dorian said, grinning as Solas examined the proffered cake with a critical eye.

Evun'ale nodded. "It's food. One of my favorites. It's cut pieces of meat cooked in a spicy sauce over rice."

"Oh," Dorian said with a grin. "Kaure, we call it. I'd make it for you, if I wasn't a dangerous menace in the kitchen."

"I used to cook. Do you think they'll let me, if you get me a recipe? Every time I try to go in there and get my own breakfast the cook looks at me like I'm personally insulting her."

Solas laughed. "To her, I'm sure it does seem like a personal insult. The high and mighty Inquisitor coming to make her own breakfast! Obviously something must be wrong with her cooking. The nobility never cook for themselves. Which is, I'm sure, why Dorian cannot."

"Likely true," Dorian admitted. "Can you cook then, Solas?"

"I can cook enough not to starve. I would not call anything that I have ever made particularly delicious, however," he admitted with a chuckle. 

"How stereotypical," Evun'ale said, laughing. "Men who can't be trusted in the kitchen."

"My dear Inquisitor, there is nothing about any of us that is typical. Stereo, or otherwise," Dorian said, and they all burst into laughter.

The meeting with the war council was quick. "So, Leiliana, Josephine, work together to get Thom out. I want this to be, at least on the surface, nice and legal, if possible. We're leaving for the Emerald Graves tomorrow. Please have him in Skyhold when I get back."

"We will do our best, Inquisitor," Josephine said. "Empress Celene will undoubtedly be displeased."

"I'm sure we can find a way. If nothing else, I already have a traitor we can substitute," Leiliana added.

"I'd prefer that to be our last resort. Just see what you can work out," she said, and after giving a few more orders for the troops, she saw herself out. They were planning on staying in the Emerald Graves for a while. Perhaps even a month or more. They needed to make sure they were prepared.


	30. Love Springs Eternal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition tackles problems in the Emerald Graves until a misstep during battle has the Inquisitor recovering from a serious injury. Solas brings her to the Sanctuary for her recovery and there is fluff and smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ma sal'shiral. Ara lath su na tel'ne din- My life's journey. My love for you will never end.  
> Bellanaris: eternity  
> Melanada: for all time  
> Unshenir ea saron: We were born to be together.

"They say every tree in the Graves was planted where one of the Emerald Knights fell in the last defense of the Dales," Harding said grimly, somewhat sullying the beauty of the sun-drenched forest.

"Is that true, Solas?" Evun'ale asked, her voice both sad and awed.

He put an arm around her consolingly. "It may once have been. But consider that it has been nearly seven hundred years since the fall of Halamshiral. Likely none of these trees were even seeds fallen from their parents then. Although I am certainly not an expert on plants, I believe that this area was a much different place during the Exalted March. That does not diminish the tragedy of the fall of the Dales, but the People had already suffered the worst blow long before."

 _Because of you._ said his brain. _The Veil took everything from the People._

Evun'ale seemed to sense the path his thoughts were traveling. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "It isn't your fault, 'ma lath. You did not realize how much the People needed the Fade. They didn't know what to do with the freedom you gave them."

The press of her hand in his gave him more peace than the words had, though his intellect saw the wisdom in those too. Meanwhile, Harding had continued to speak, telling them about a man called Fairbanks who was willing to offer an alliance if they would help him with a group of malcontents called the Freemen of the Dales.

They went into Watcher's Reach and spoke briefly to Fairbanks, who gave them the rundown on the Freemen. Evun'ale had no reservations about agreeing to help him. "He seems to genuinely care about the people here," Solas said approvingly.

"I thought you'd like him," Evun'ale said with a grin. "He's a bit like Fen'harel, I think, only less terrifying. Protecting the common folk from the warlike whims of uncaring nobility."

Solas snorted as Evun'ale turned to the others. "So, here's the plan. We'll split up. Solas, Cassandra, Varric and Dorian will come with me to Villa Maurel. The rest of you, Iron Bull, Sera, Cole, and Vivienne, go to the veridium mines and free the people there. Then meet us at the Inquisition camp in Gracevine. We'll tackle Argon's Lodge together."

Everyone was in agreement and so they parted ways and started the hike to Villa Maurel. "So this used to be the homeland of the elves? Before the Chantry decided the heathens had to go," Dorian said wryly. "I wonder what it looked liked then."

"I can show you memories of the Dales, perhaps this evening, if you are truly curious," Solas replied thoughtfully. And then there was little time for talking because they were fighting. Red templars, bandits, and then they were in the courtyard of the villa. Another armored guy with a giant hammer. Lovely.

It was a stiff battle, but the addition of an extra mage was invaluable, and finally the Freemen lieutenant was dead. 

Evun'ale picked up a note she found on his body. "Seems like they are working with the Red Templars. I know Cullen wanted to disrupt the lyrium smuggling out here. We'll be killing two birds with one stone."

So they fought their way to the camp, taking out the red Templars, closing rifts, and they made it to Gracevine just as the sun was resting. The others were already there and apparently Sera had shot several nugs and halla. They were having stew. 

The next morning, Evun'ale told them what to expect from Argon's Lodge and they made a plan. Cassandra, Iron Bull, Vivienne, Varric and Sera would attack from one side of the fortress. When they had drawn most of the troops out, the rest would creep in from behind, taking out the captain before anyone was the wiser.

It worked surprisingly well, for a while. So well that Evun'ale failed to notice the man coming up behind her. She fell life a tree before a chainsaw.

To Solas, it seemed like all color drained temporarily from the world. He might have screamed, his magic lashing out without his will, freezing every opponent on field at once. They shattered in a grisly explosion.

"Damn, Chuckles," Varric whispered, but he hardly heard because he was running to her, sliding on blood, falling to his knees at her side. He put his hand to her brow, the fingers of his magic probing her injuries gently. 

"How bad is it, Solas?" Dorian asked. He had run up to the Inquisitor behind him and knelt on the other side.

After a slight pause, he looked up, relief etched on his features. "Just a concussion, I think," he said with a sigh. "Though healing is not my expertise, I believe she will be all right with rest. Let us go back to the camp, and I will let you do the bulk of the healing." Dorian nodded wordlessly. 

Cassandra sighed with relief. "We will meet you there once we have combed through this place."

Solas nodded. "Certainly she would not want to miss anything important because of this mishap," he agreed. Carefully, he scooped the Inquisitor up in his arms and stood. Her weight in his arms was reassuringly warm.

The others were quiet until he and Dorian were out of sight. "Fuck. Elven Glory wasn't messin' around, was he?" Sera said with a low whistle.

"No shit. Remind me to never get on his bad side," Iron Bull rumbled as he kicked through a pile of cracked bits of armor.

"His magic is impressive, if lacking in refinement." Everyone stared at Vivienne for a moment. 

"You have got some balls, Enchanter, insulting a guy who just killed ten hulking brutes in armor at once," Varric said with a snort.

**************

Dorian and Solas laid Evun'ale in the tent and the Tevinter mage swept his magic over her injuries. "She may actually have a minor skull fracture," he said quietly, and Solas drew in a frightened breath. "Not to worry, Solas. I can speed the healing and as long as we keep an eye on swelling, she'll likely be fully recovered in less than a week."

Solas sighed. "Thank you, Dorian. I can mend a simple broken bone, but I do not trust my skills with a head injury."

"I'm not exactly a healer either, but they do teach us battle first aid at the academy. Luckily, this wasn't terribly complex." Dorian started to leave, and then turned back. "Also, the baby is fine, before you ask. Hopefully, this is not a surprise."

Solas let out a long, slow, breath. "No. It is not. Though I would appreciate it if you keep it to yourself for a while longer."

"I will," Dorian agreed, and Solas fixed him with a look. "I mean it this time. I swear on my beautiful face. You may blast me to bits if I break my promise." He held his hands in front of him, either a gesture of peace or possibly unconsciously protecting himself.

"I will not blast you to bits, Dorian," Solas said, sighing in weary exasperation. "But do consider the position she is in. This knowledge could be dangerous in the wrong hands."

Dorian nodded. "I can well imagine. If you don't mind my asking, how far along is she? I'm surprised you're letting her out of Skyhold."

Solas laughed grimly. "As if I had a choice. Unfortunately, she is the only one who can be the Inquisitor. Until Corypheus is no more, the world needs her, more than I do. I am concerned for her, obviously. We can always have another child, but she cannot be replaced." He sighed heavily. "She is probably about three months along, perhaps four. Time has passed quickly, it is hard to keep track."

"But she isn't even showing," Dorian said with raised eyebrows. "Isn't that worrisome?"

"Not for one of the Elvhen. It will be months before anyone is the wiser. With any luck, Corypheus will be defeated before it becomes an issue."

Dorian gaped. "I didn't consider that... Are you saying that you are still immortal? I thought the elves lost their extended lifespan when the Veil was created."

"How then, did you suppose I remained alive after ten thousand years?" Solas said, laughing. 

"I don't know. I suppose I assumed that it had to do with being asleep for so long. When you say it that way, it doesn't make very much sense, actually."

"We did not lose our immortality all at once. It was a slow attrition. Any Elvhen born before the Veil is still just as immortal as they were. So, yes. To answer to your question, I am still immortal. As is she," he said, indicating the Inquisitor.

"What? You're kidding. How in Andraste's name did that happen?"

Solas smiled gently. "Mythal. I am not certain if it was an accident or a purposeful gift, but if you know what to look for, it is clear."

"So all we have to do is survive Corypheus, and you two will ride off into the sunset, presumably making hundreds of elf babies for eternity," Dorian said with a chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. 

"That is, apparently, her plan," Solas said with a snort.

***************

The others arrived back at the camp an hour later. Cassandra came into the tent to check on them. Solas was sitting next Evun'ale with a book open on his lap, though he was mostly staring at her.

"Dorian said she will likely be fully recovered in a week or so," the Seeker said cautiously.

"Yes," Solas said with a cautious smile. "A minor skull fracture, according to him. He believes she will likely awaken in a few hours. I have be-spelled her to sleep while the healing magic does its work."

"Good. We have been discussing what to do next. It seems foolish not to send her back to Skyhold, but it is such a long journey to leave, only to come right back. Do you know what her plans were?"

He raised an eyebrow. "We only spoke about reporting to Fairbanks and finding the ocularums. She did mention that we should avoid the other side of the river for the time being. I believe there is a dragon in residence. Possibly several giants?" he said with a frown.

Cassandra nodded. "Solas, I think you should take the Inquisitor back to Skyhold. Everyone would feel better if she was recovering in her own bed."

He raised an eyebrow. "And what will the rest of you do in the time being? Do you not fear the journey will be worse for her recovery than simply remaining?"

"We will do what we can without her. Find the shards, report to Fairbanks, disrupt the lyrium smugglers. Perhaps by the time we are done, she will have recovered. And I suspect that you have a way to travel that will be quicker than what we can manage."

"You have amazing faith in my non-existent abilities, Seeker," Solas said with a smile. "Just because I am Fen'harel does not mean I can do the impossible." Cassandra frowned at him and his grin widened. "However, in this case, you are partly correct, and I was considering this already, though I was unsure how I might explain it. There is an eluvian here which Evun'ale and I had intended to recover. I will not take the Inquisitor back to Skyhold, because I do not wish to have an unpleasant encounter with Morrigan at this juncture. But I will take her through to the Crossroads, and return here when she is well."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Cassandra said testily. 

"I suppose you would not. Suffice it to say that we will leave tonight, and return tomorrow morning. Evun'ale will have as much time to heal as she needs. I will explain all when we return. Does that meet with your approval?"

Cassandra stared at him a moment and then sighed. "If it were anyone but you, I would say no. It is ridiculous and terribly suspicious. But you have always done the best you can for the Inquisitor, and I trust you."

"Thank you, Cassandra. It has certainly been long since anyone has dared to trust me. It will not be taken for granted. We will depart as soon as she is awake."

A few hours later, they were astride the hart, Evun'ale resting against Solas's chest. Her head was pounding in time with her heart and the touch of his cool fingers on her brow was a blessing. Their voices were mercifully quiet.

"If you would like to accompany us for a short while, you, Varric, and Dorian will be welcome," Solas said to Cassandra. "Though I would ask that you do not tell the others where we go, for the time being."

The Seeker frowned. "As you wish. It will ease my worry somewhat, I admit."

So they left, Solas guiding the hart gently at walking speed and the others pacing along beside.

"I guess I'm a bit surprised you didn't invite the kid along. You guys seem close," Varric offered after a moment.

"I am leaving Cole to watch over the others," Solas said with a sly smile. "It is difficult to hide things from him, and for this, there is no need. But he would be the first to know if Bull's suspicion of me becomes a danger, or if Madame de Fer ever considers revealing my identity an advantage. I do not trust either of them with the knowledge that I am about to share with you. And Sera is just irritating."

Dorian laughed at the admission. "Oh, Solas, you really are no fun. You'd think you would approve of her efforts to make the nobility suffer."

"I would, were her methods not so crude and childish. The Red Jennys could work real change, but Sera prefers to stick with depriving people of their pants."

Cassandra snorted. "What would you do in her place, then?"

Solas frowned, peering down at Evun'ale who appeared to be dozing. "I would pick targets more carefully, for a start. Why do you ask?"

The Seeker shrugged. "I suppose I am simply curious how your mind works. It is not every day one has a chance to speak with someone older than the Chant, after all," she said amiably. "Also, I cannot help but imagine what kind of good we, as in the Inquisition, could do, after the Breach is sealed, and I have just come to the realization that you might have ideas on the matter."

Solas laughed then, and Evun'ale whimpered quietly, her eyes squinted tightly shut. He sobered, stroking her hair in concern. "Many. But now is not the time to speak of it," he said quietly. "We are nearly there."

They arrived at a boulder, flanked by two owl statues and Veilfire torches. "Hate to break it to you Chuckles, but this is a rock."

Solas shook his head. "That is not even deserving of a response, Master Tethras. I must dismount for a moment, please steady the Inquisitor for me." The others came to the side of the hart, holding Evun'ale's limp form as he disentangled himself and slid down, his hand lingering on hers for a moment before he turned to the rock. He could hear his love murmuring behind him and Cassandra reassuring her. 

Solas lit the torches with a gesture and the rock faded away, revealing a door that opened to his touch. He walked inside the small round room and beckoned the others to follow, lighting the other torches as he passed on his way to the mirror.

"Well, we know you've been here before," Varric said wryly as his eyes roamed over the familiar artwork.

"I am not the only person who works in this style, Master Tethras. But yes, I did paint this, long ago," he admitted with a smile.

Dorian followed behind him, his eyes wide with wonder. "Is this what I think it is, Solas? An eluvian? I have read stories, but to see one..."

"This is how the empire of Elvhenan was held together, before the Veil." Solas placed his hand upon the mirror. It was unlocked and still keyed to him, though he changed the wards somewhat. 

"Where does it go?" Dorian asked, mesmerized by the shifting colors in the lit glass.

"All of them, or nearly all, lead to a place between the Fade and physical reality. Some call it the Crossroads. If you know where to go, you can travel nearly all of Thedas in this way, provided you have the right keys."

"Fascinating," Dorian said, shaking his head. "Imagine the things that could be accomplished with access to such a treasure."

"I have. And once I have recovered access to the entire, I plan on having a discussion with all of you on what those things might be. For the time being, I am not certain that it is safe to wander freely. Perhaps when we return to Skyhold, I will give tours," he added with a smirk.

Meanwhile, Cassandra approached with Evun'ale on the hart. "A magic mirror? You have got to be kidding me," Cassandra said with a sigh.

"No. As Dorian will no doubt tell you, eluvians are well known from elven lore, but most are thought to have been lost. But the truth is that they are simply well hidden." He mounted the hart behind Evun'ale again, and she sighed as she settled back against his chest. "We will return tomorrow morning, as promised. If we are not at the camp by noon, you may come and look for us, but I do not think it will be necessary."

"If you say so, Solas. But I hope you will explain more fully when you return."

He clicked his tongue at the hart and it started forward through the mirror. When the animal had disappeared, the mirror went dark once again.

*************

Evun'ale had vague memories of the ride through the Crossroads, of being lifted, cradled like a child, laid somewhere soft and warm. She dozed, flitting in and out of consciousness for who knew how long, though she thought she remembered drinking cold water, perhaps even speaking. 

Eventually, the fog began to fade. It was like swimming up to the surface. Thought became clearer, there were flashes of complete lucidity and then, she broke through, awakening fully into early morning light in a room that was at least somewhat familiar. Vaulted ceilings, bookshelves, sunlight streaming through wide windows. It strongly resembled the tower room in Skyhold in its construction, and Evun'ale knew. of course, both had been designed by the same hand. But this room was both more austere and more cluttered, reflecting lifetimes of use by Solas and their recent occupancy together. The bedroom in Skyhold belonged to the Inquisitor with a capital I. This bedroom was theirs alone.

She rolled to her side, knowing Solas would be there. He had turned away from her in his sleep and she pressed herself against his back, his skin warm and inviting. He didn't wake at first, until her hand slipped under his arm to press flat against his chest. They sighed with contentment as one, and then she felt him shift as his mind cleared. He moved to face her, cupping her cheek with his hand and staring at her with concern in his eyes. "Vhenan. You are awake. I was beginning to be concerned."

"How long has it been? Everything is a little fuzzy. I remember the battle and going through the mirror. Snatches of things, but that's all." She curled gratefully against him, somewhat annoyed that she seemed to be fully clothed while he, clearly, was not.

"It is three days since your injury. Or it would be, had we remained in the physical world. How are you feeling? Your skull was fractured by a man with a rather large mace," he said, wrapping his arms around her carefully, as if he feared she might shatter.

"Better. My head still hurts, but not nearly as badly. And I'm starving." Her stomach rumbled to underscore the point.

Solas chuckled. "I will bring you something to eat, never fear. Dorian told me not to let you out of bed for at least two more days." Evun'ale groaned.

But Solas did his best to keep her entertained. He read to her, told her stories, sang to her, even performed ridiculously showy magic just to see her smile. And eventually, he pronounced himself satisfied with her recovery and let her get out of bed.

She felt weak and unsteady at first, but by the next evening, they were walking together as false sun set and the stars rose. They stood on the hill overlooking the lake, watching the moon mount the horizon, giving everything an ethereal silvery glow.

Solas sighed suddenly, a puff of warm breath on the back of her neck. "Something wrong, 'ma lath?" Evun'ale asked.

"I was just finding it ironic that, despite my reputation for cleverness, I can think of no subtle way to start this conversation. I feel as awkward as a young boy asking a noble lady for a dance."

She laughed in response. "What conversation is that? I have never known you to be shy about anything. Surely after ten thousand years, there can be no topic you haven't discussed."

"I think you overestimate the variety of my interests. As anyone will tell you, the Fade is all I am inclined to discuss." Evun'ale let out a surprised bark of laughter and Solas grinned before continuing. "In any case, I was attempting to casually inquire about the marriage customs of your world, but apparently I am incapable of such subterfuge."

She felt her heart flip over in her chest, but she tried to keep her voice neutral. "For your sake, I will pretend that this is a completely normal subject for discussion which I find not at all suspicious," she said with an arched eyebrow. Though she could not see his face, she could tell through their bond that he was blushing. 

"In my world, the man almost always does the asking. Traditionally, he gets down on one knee and gives his intended a ring that costs too much money. The lady should tearfully accept. They will spend the next year planning a ceremony which will likely bankrupt them and cause several arguments. Then all their friends and family dress up in fancy clothes and stand around listening to a priest talk for an hour, after which everyone gets drunk and makes enormous fools of themselves."

"Are you serious, vhenan? That sounds like torture," Solas said in a horrified tone.

Evun'ale laughed. "That's one version of it. I might have been exaggerating a bit. But the basic idea is that the two people exchange vows and rings in front of a priest or judge. Usually they invite friends and family to watch. So what about the Elvhen? Did the marriage ceremonies last ten years?"

"No," Solas snorted. "In the early days of the People, we had no need of such things, but, as I am sure was the case in your world, eventually it became necessary to prevent conflict over inheritance, succession, and other similar matters. However, it was not so different from what you described. There was a ceremony with exchanging of tokens, although unless the parties were important figures, no witnesses or officiants were required. Some partners chose to be magically bound by spirits of Love or Fidelity, though it was certainly not a requirement."

"So, any particular reason we're having this conversation, 'ma lath?" Evun'ale finally asked, trying to keep her tone light despite the fluttery feeling in her stomach.

"I see you are ready to abandon our pretense." Solas paused, breathing in deeply through his nose to steady himself. He pulled at her hand so that she faced him and he looked at her for a long moment, framed against the moon. "Evun'ale," he said, swallowing, feeling himself trembling and chiding himself for being a fool. "I know we have not spoken of it before, and I have no token to offer you but... would you consent to be my wife?"

"Of course I will," she said, nearly knocking him to the ground with the force of her embrace. He laughed, swinging her around in a circle, heart soaring with relief. "Did you really think I would refuse?"

"I was.. somewhat concerned," he admitted. "I did not know how you felt about it. Perhaps you did not wish to marry again. I feared you might think me old fashioned."

"Well, you are that," she replied, kissing him gently. "But nothing would make me happier. Solas, I love you. I want nothing more than for us to be a family. All three of us."

"'Ma sal'shiral. Ara lath su na tel'ne din," he said, feeling suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. They kissed until they had no breath left. 

"What will we do now to celebrate?" she murmured against his lips, feeling them curve in response.

"I have several ideas in that regard."

***************

The hot spring was hidden well, inside a cave that could only be reached through a short underwater passage. They helped each other to undress, hands brushing softly through the fabric and lips pressing to newly bared skin. Solas gazed at Evun'ale, her skin glowing in the moonlight, her belly now softly rounded to his eyes, though he doubted it would be apparent to anyone else, and he was filled with such love and desire that it took all his strength to release her hand. He dove into the water, cool as silk against his skin and felt the stirring behind him that meant she was following. 

Surfacing with a gasp of air, he peered around the cave, which was just as they had left it. Steam filled the air, glowing blue and green with mage light, swirling up to a narrow opening high above, and the cave smelled of damp stone and minerals. He felt a ripple of water underneath him before Evun'ale broke through the water in front of him with a grin, spitting a fountain of water in his face.

He sputtered and splashed her, and suddenly the pool became a maelstrom of waves and laughter until he pinned her against the edge of the pool with a fierce grin, water dripping off his face rather comically. "You are an absolute terror."

"Hmmm. You look so disappointed," she replied playfully, wrapping her legs around his waist as her arms went around his neck.

"That, I have never been,' he said, his grin softening as he leaned in to kiss her. She met his lips eagerly, her mouth opening to the brush of his tongue, her fingers tangling in his hair. His mouth quested lower, brushing her jaw, his breath tickling her ear until she gasped, gentle kisses on her neck becoming sharp with his teeth. 

Meanwhile, her hands roamed freely, her nails softly raking his scalp so that his chestnut curls came unbound in a loose cascade to his chin. She ran her hands over his shoulders and back, sliding around to his hips, trailing her fingers in delicate patterns over his stomach. 

Suddenly, he pushed her upwards, sitting her on the edge of the pool in front of him, kissing the inside of her knees and along her inner thigh until she quivered with anticipation as much as from the cool air on her wet skin. His breath felt almost scalding hot as he pushed her open with his tongue, circling the sensitive bud before laving it gently.

Evun'ale trembled with pleasure, struggling to hold herself upright as he suckled her greedily and then he pushed a finger inside her and she cried out his name as she soared to new heights, before a shattering finale of ecstasy that left her gasping.

He pushed himself up to sit beside her with a satisfied chuckle, but when he put his arms around her he felt that she was freezing. "I am sorry, vhenan. I did not realize how cold you had become."

"I can't say I cared very much," she said languidly, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Let us go to one of the warmer pools," he said, scooping her up in his arms before she could protest. The water was pleasantly warm, but not shockingly so, having been purposely designed to provide a gentle temperature gradient. 

She sighed with relief as they sank into the water, but once she was no longer shivering, she looked up at him, her eyes dark. "Now, you interrupted me in the middle of something."

"Did I?" he said with an arched eyebrow. "What was that?"

She turned in his lap with a chuckle, pressing her hips against his and rolling them enticingly. "I think you know," she whispered in his ear, before sucking the lobe and then taking it between her teeth until he groaned.

He turned and pressed her against the smooth rock with a growl, his kiss demanding and devouring as she wrapped her legs around his hips and he slid inside her with a hiss. They rolled together in a sure and steady rhythm, a give and take that was at once as familiar as breathing and as brilliantly sharp and intense as the point of a knife. They could feel it building, like riding the crest of a giant wave as it loomed toward the shore, but they held back, wanting to prolong the peak. And when it crashed over them both, they clung to each other like they were drowning, quaking with relief and release.

"How could I ever want anyone but you? Bellanaris, Solas," she whispered into his neck as they sank back into the water.

"Melanada, Evun'ale. Unshenir ea saron."


	31. Tragic History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a dialogue heavy chapter covering the rest of the Emerald Graves. Some Cassandra and Varric cuteness, and a lot of the Inquisition discussing history. So, sorry its a bit boring :)

Solas and Evun'ale took their time about returning, relishing being alone together, but after they had been in the Sanctuary for what seemed to them to be nearly three weeks, they decided to rejoin the others. Partly this was due to the fact that the longer they remained beyond time, the farther her pregnancy would progress, and both of them wanted to be done with Corypheus before it was noticeable.

So they prepared themselves to travel back through the Crossroads. Solas took Evun'ale on a few detours to change wards on some of the closer eluvians, and then they arrived back in the Emerald Graves just as the sun was peeking over the horizon, riding the hart back to the Inquisition camp. Cassandra was already awake.

"Inquisitor! I'm so glad to see you are well. When Solas told me you would be recovered in just one night, I admit that I thought he was crazy," she said, giving Solas a somewhat apologetic look.

"It's only been one night for you, but for us it had been nearly a month," Evun'ale replied, laughing. "I've been gone long enough to start missing you guys."

"Is that Evun'ale I hear?" called Dorian from the tent. "Solas had not spirited you away to secret fortresses in the Fade forever, then?"

"Not that the thought has not crossed my mind," Solas said with a wry smile. "But the world requires the Inquisitor, so we have returned."

Dorian and Varric soon emerged from their tent, and Bull from another. Cole was apparently flitting around the camp somewhere and it appeared that Vivienne and Sera were sleeping in. "So what is next on the agenda, Boss?" Bull asked as breakfast was set out.

"Solas said you all wrapped things up with Fairbanks and picked up shards?" Evun'ale asked as she poured her coffee and dumped an egregious amount of sugar into it.

"We activated the astrariums too," Cassandra said. "There was a decent dagger schematic in the hidden chamber, so you'll have to have Dagna make you a new blade."

The Inquisitor nodded and considered for several moments. "All right, so here's my thoughts. Solas, Dorian, Cassandra, Varric, and I will go together to handle the rifts on the other side of the river and investigate the old elven ruins there. The rest of you, Bull, Sera, Vivienne and Cole, head over to the villa in the north east. According to reports, there is some really weird magic going on over there. If you get back before we do, feel free to return to the camp at Briathos' Steps, or you can wait outside the ruins for us. But don't stray westward of the ruins. There are reportedly several giants there, and as well as a dragon."

"Why is it always weird magic shit?" Bull grumbled, stabbing a sausage on his plate rather grumpily. Provisions in the field had definitely improved since the alliance with Orlais.

"There has always been magic in the world. However, the Breach and the smaller rifts have certainly increased the number of magical anomalies," Solas offered. "Spirits are pulled through the rifts, as people might be sucked into a cyclone. Crossing the Veil in this way is traumatic. They cannot hold on to themselves, and are thus corrupted."

"What would have happened if you had removed the Veil entirely, as you intended?" Dorian asked.

"Considering the number of miscalculations I have already made, I cannot now be sure, except that it would have been catastrophic. But my belief was that many Elvhen in uthenera would have awoken, and all elves would begin to regain their lifespans and magical gifts. Spirits would have been somewhat endangered by exposure to the desires of mankind, but I hoped that without the Veil, there would be more opportunities for understanding. It would have been an unpleasant world for mortals, to say the least, but I initially thought that their death would be a mercy," he admitted, shamefaced.

"But why?" Cassandra asked, horrified. Everyone thought of Solas as one of the more gentle and kind members of the Inquisition. It was troubling to hear him admit to such murderous intent.

"I had been asleep for thousands of years. In the Fade, I could tell that things were different, but I did not realize how much the Veil had altered reality until I awoke. Imagine waking up one morning, and finding that everyone in the world had been made Tranquil overnight, and worse still, that it was because of something you had done." 

He sighed heavily. "I was born in the Fade. It is a part of me, just as it is for all the ancient Elvhen. With the Veil in place, nearly everyone in the world has been denied that connection. When I first encountered mortals, they seemed to me like empty shells. I was frantic to undo my mistake. Now at least, I know that I was wrong about you, and that removing the Veil would have been an error even more disastrous."

Bull raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. "Man, even I think Tranquil are weird. So, thanks for not destroying the world, Solas," he said with a hearty laugh, slapping the elf heavily on the back before stomping off to shake Vivienne and Sera tent. The two women shouted in irritation, raising another laugh from the horned mercenary.

Solas watched him go with a confused frown. "I think he was trying to make you feel better, vhenan," Evun'ale said with a grin.

Cassandra snorted into her coffee. "Perhaps he was. I must admit that the idea is hard for me to grasp. To see everyone as Tranquil..."

"Imagine, Cassandra, if you will, the Elvhen of old. Where changing shape was as easy as slipping into a new dress. A kiss might last for days, a poem for years. The air was filled with the song of magic, and your thoughts could be made real with an effort of will. It was a dangerous world, but no less so than now. There was darkness, inequality, war, of course. But I chiefly remember the beauty and freedom that was lost. I feel nostalgia the same as other men, it is only that mine is for a world that was lost so long ago that even the memories have faded to near nothing."

Cassandra sighed, her eyes far away. "You certainly paint a pretty picture, Solas. I am sorry for what the elves have lost. But I am still glad that you have now chosen a different path. Not just for my own survival and that of my loved ones, but because it gives me hope."

He raised his eyebrows. "I am interested to hear why, Cassandra. Since I have not done anything of note, lately."

"If even a ten-thousand year old god can be turned aside by love, then surely any change we wish can be made if we are willing to work. Also, I would hate to lose you as a friend."

Solas's cheeks turned bright red, making everyone grin. "Thank you, Cassandra. I have found much more kindness and companionship in this world that I could have thought possible."

"Look at that, Cassandra. Now you can tell people you made Fen'harel blush," Varric said with a wide grin. "Still, we'd better get going. Before Vivienne comes out and starts the interrogation."

"Good point," Evun'ale agreed, draining her cup and setting it beside the fire. "Let's get going. A little bird told me that these next rifts are going to be less than fun."

 _A little bird?_ Dorian mouthed at Solas, who shrugged, a crooked smile on his face.

***********

The three rifts they had not yet closed were indeed unpleasant. "Why are there so many despair demons?!" Evun'ale shouted as she dove away from one spray of ice only to have another focused on her. Solas cast a a barrier over her with one hand while flinging fire with his staff. Fire was not his element of choice, but it was no use to wield ice against these demons.

Finally, the rift closed with a shrieking crackle of energy. The five of them huddled together shivering for a moment. "This is a place of sorrow," Solas finally said. "It is only natural that it would attract these spirits.'

Evun'ale burrowed her face in his chest until she felt somewhat thawed. "You would think there would be a way to cleanse negative energy from an area," she said once she had recovered, pulling the map out of her belt pouch and marking the rift as closed.

"There is," Solas said as he searched the grass for demon remnants for Skyhold's researchers. "But it takes an absurd amount of energy to purge an area as storied as this. Besides, if the rift was not here, the demons would not be nearly as dangerous. Though they are problematic here, in the Fade most of them would be harmless, as well as serving a purpose."

"I admit I'm curious what purpose a despair demon could possibly serve," Varric said sourly while Bianca dry.

"In the Fade, these are spirits of Grief, of Memory, of Hope. They remember the lost, keeping the past alive even when we wish to forget. And they offer comfort to those who dream, a promise of something better. Even fear, rage, and desire have a purpose when properly controlled and directed."

"And Pride," Evun'ale said with a playful grin, nudging Solas gently in the ribs.

"Yes, even Pride has its place," he said with a roll of his eyes.

Cassandra snorted and Varric grinned. "As long as you aren't going to turn in a giant purple monster with lightning whips, you're good by me, Chuckles."

"I shall keep that in mind," he replied, his faced wryly amused, and he linked his elbow with Evun'ale's as they began to walk towards Elgar'nan's bastion.

"Why don't you use more lightning magic?" Dorian asked him as they walked. "If you were once a spirit of Pride, you would think you would have a natural affinity."

"Likely for the same reason you do not practice blood magic, though I do not doubt you know how. It reminds me of a part of myself that I do not like."

"Fair point," Dorian replied.

"Besides, it has been a rather long time since I have bothered. Truthfully, my connection to the storm has waned and I am not sure now that I could even wield it safely. I chose to focus on winter magic, perhaps because that was the type of person I wished that I was."

"You know Solas, my brother used to say that it is not your birth that defines who you are, but the choices you make," Cassandra added thoughtfully.

"A wise sentiment. But I do not think I shall change my name just yet, Seeker. After all, I still find that my pride is often what leads me astray."

They soon came to the entrance of the ruin, and all were surprised to find Dalish aravels abandoned outside. "This is one of the more intact Elven structures I have seen in the south," Dorian said. "I mean, it actually has a door."

Solas nodded, touching the door lightly. "It was warded, until recently. Also, this is not a remnant of the ancient Elvhen like many of the other buildings here. If I had to guess, it was built not too long before the fall of the Dales. We should be wary. I doubt the Dalish would have had the strength to break through a ward this old."

The group readied their weapons, and pushed through the door.

***********

The ruins were rather more... ruined on the inside. There were signs of battle. "These are Inquisition soldiers," Evun'ale said, kneeling before a group of bodies.

"And here are the Dalish," Solas said gravely. "They certainly did not kill each other. I Suspect the Venatori are within."

"Bastards," Dorian said fiercely. "I probably know half of them. As if Tevinter didn't already have a public relations problem in the South."

"It only takes one man to sway the tide of opinion," Solas offered as they climbed over the rubble-strewn stairs. 

"Speaking from experience, I take it?" the other mage quipped, and then one of those freaky red lyrium behemoths stomped around the corner, flanked by other Venatori. 

It was a fierce fight, but not nearly as difficult as it would have been just a few months previously. They had all grown in power and ability, since the Inquisition had been formed, and their friendship also enabled them to work together as one unit. They picked through the corpses with grim purpose. 

"I remember when this used to really gross me out," Evun'ale said, frowning. "I kind of feel like I'm a bad person because it doesn't bother me anymore."

"That must make me a really bad person," Varric said wryly as he pocket a mage's purse with a grin.

"An unavoidable consequence of battle, my heart," Solas said gently, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Your mind is trying to protect you from feeling guilty about your actions. As I told you long ago in the Crossroads, it is more important that you never take pleasure from ending a life. Even Corypheus should be pitied, though the world might be glad to see him gone."

"Solas is right, Inquisitor," Cassandra added. "We cannot help that we have to fight. You have more compassion for your foes than most. I don't think you need worry."

"Besides, we'll let you know if you start to go mad with power, won't we, Chuckles?" 

"In the unlikely event that this occurs," Solas agreed with an amused snort.

Evun'ale shook her head. "Thanks guys. Anyway, look at what I found on the behemoth." She handed it to Solas, seeing as it was elven and practically humming with magical power.

"Hmm. I believe it is part of a magical seal. I suspect there is some sort of hidden artifact here that Corypheus wished to find. Therefore, we should attempt to locate it first." 

Traveling through the ruin, it appeared to be some sort of memorial to the Emerald Knights, referencing the sad history of the fall of the Dales. "You know, I always wondered, are the wolf statues here for Fen'harel or for the wolf guardians the knights kept? I've heard both explanations."

"The answer is complicated. They were built for me, but not by me. I was long in uthenera by the time these statues were erected. But back then, the elves still listened to me if I spoke in their dreams, and Shartan was one of my followers. It was his people who had the statues constructed, to guide the fleeing elven slaves from Tevinter. A tribute to my rebellion I suppose," he said with a shrug. 

"Of course there are many more ancient examples of such statues, built before the Veil, even before the betrayal of Mythal. Before I was Fen'harel, I was her sentinel, and I was accustomed to the form of a wolf. So I suspect that is where the Emerald Knights got the idea for their wolf guardians, and certainly the statues are now more often associated with them than they are with me. Otherwise, they would no doubt be covered in Dalish graffiti consigning me to the Void and cursing my name in creative ways," he added with a smirk.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," Varric said with a waggle of his eyebrows. 

"Believe me, I prefer to be known as the Inquisitor's apostate hobo. One gets blamed for far fewer problems that way." Everyone was momentarily breathless with laughter. 

It took several hours to clear the entire ruin of Venatori as well as find all the seals, and finally they were ready to unlock the giant door hidden in the depths of the structure.

"Solas, you never did explain where you took the Inquisitor when you went through the mirror," Cassandra said as they rested in the antechamber, expecting a battle and wanting to be prepared. They leaned up against the wall, stretching their legs in front of them as the mages waited for their mana to replenish and the others simply stretched and rested sore muscles. 

"Dorian was the closest to correct," Solas said easily, resting his chin on the top of Evun'ale's head as she sat leaning against his chest. "I do have a secret fortress, of sorts. It is not exactly in the Fade, but it is so close that it is separated from the flow of mortal time. Once I recovered a part of the eluvian network in Halamshiral, we could go there for as long as we liked, and no time would pass here."

"That is amazing," Dorian said shortly. "I would not have believed it if I had not seen the evidence for myself. Think what the Inquisition could accomplish with such an advantage." 

Solas shook his head. "There is much I would do to defeat Corypheus, but that I would not consider. In the first place, I wish to keep access to the eluvians restricted to people that we trust. I have no doubt that the our forces are already full of spies. Think what the Qunari or Venatori could do with the power to travel through Thedas at the blink of an eye."

Cassandra shuddered. "That is true. We could be overrun before we could even defend ourselves." Evun'ale frownedat Cassandra's words, remembering the Dragon's Breath plot. She'd have to talk to Solas about that later.

However, at the current moment, he smiled down at her and squeezed her hand. "Besides, forgive me for being selfish, but there are some things that I would like to keep for Evun'ale alone."

Cassandra blushed as Dorian and Varric chuckled. "I suppose we can hardly complain, since you already gave the Inquisition one castle," Dorian said after a moment. 

Solas shrugged. "You needed a home. It is not as if I was using it. Besides, the weather is not terribly hospitable. I would prefer to retire in a warmer climate."

"Wouldn't we all?" Cassandra said with a snort.

Finally they were ready to break the seal on the door. To their surprise the giant room appeared to be empty of enemies. Floating in the center over an open pit was a glowing blue ball of energy.

"How unusual," Solas said with raised eyebrows. "This is a tomb for the fallen Knights, that is clear. But this," he said, indicating the ball of light, "this is a preserved memory. It seems we must work to access it."

It only took a moment to figure out. Solas lit a Veilfire torch and they were swarmed with undead. Four torches, four battles, each one more difficult. After the last revenant had fallen and they stood, panting and bloody, but triumphant, a bridge sprang to life, spanning the gap to the memory.

"It's not dangerous, is it Solas?" Cassandra asked quietly as they approached.

"No," he replied. "It may, however, be somewhat troubling. But there is no way to be sure without seeing it for ourselves."

They approached together and the memory pulled them in. At first it was difficult to make sense of, as they had no context, but eventually, as they saw the two lovers meeting in secret and then the tragic death of the human girl followed by swift retribution, they understood. This was the true story of the Battle at Red Crossing, the incident that prompted the Exalted March on the Dales.

When the memory released them, they were all stricken dumb for a moment. Solas was the first to recover himself, sighing heavily. "So, the truth at last. A senseless tragedy. I am sure the Dalish would like to know this bit of their history."

"Do you think so, Solas?" Cassandra said with a sniff. "It is so terribly sad."

"The Chantry would probably pay us handsomely for such information," Dorian added somewhat cynically.

"No doubt," Evun'ale agreed. "But I will take it to the Dalish when we contact them. We need to find the clan of those killed here anyway."

*************

Everyone was quiet and somewhat downhearted as they traveled back to the camp. Solas and Evun'ale walked hand in hand in front of the others, and Dorian was lost in his own thoughts. But Cassandra and Varric brought up the rear, studiously not looking at each other. The Inquisitor would have laughed to see it. 

"You okay?" Varric finally asked Cassandra quietly, when they were close to camp and the others had gotten a bit ahead of them. 

She glanced at him in surprise and then sighed. "I am all right. It just saddens me, how much tragedy in the world is caused by simple misunderstanding. If anyone in that tale had stopped for a moment and listened, with a open mind and heart, as the Inquisitor once told me, a massacre would have been prevented. The world might have been different, better, had one pair of lovers not been parted by hatred and fear. It makes me wonder about how often my own tendency to rush to judgement has caused needless suffering."

Varric grimaced, for once unsure what to say. "I'm no good at this sort of thing, Cassandra. Moonbright is the comforter in chief around here. But for what it's worth, I don't think you're heartless. Everybody's got flaws. I guess the good thing is, if you know what they are, you can try your best to change. Weren't you just telling Chuckles that people are defined by their choices?"

She stared at him a moment, perhaps looking for a hint of his normal mockery, and, not finding any, she rewarded him with a surprisingly shy smile. "Thank you, Varric. Change is never easy, but that does not mean it isn't worth it." She walked past him into the camp, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. Maybe it was his imagination that her hand lingered a moment longer than was necessary.

Dinner around the fire was more subdued than usual. Apparently the others had found a no less tragic tale in the manor house. A mage child hidden away so he could inherit the title. His parents tricked by an apostate into purchasing an item to protect their child that only hastened his enslavement by a demon. The poor boy murdered his family, slowly descending into madness before becoming an abomination. He was likely not more than ten years old.

So everyone was eating their dinner in glum silence, until a voice broke the stillness. It was Cole, his high, reedy voice not exactly musical, but made more poignant somehow.

"Too long I have traveled, soon I'll see her smiling,  
The girl in Red Crossing I'm longing to see.  
O, I know she is there, daisies in her hair,  
Waiting by the chantry to marry me."

Everyone stared for a moment, and then, to the lasting surprise of all, Vivienne started to sing on the next verse, her voice a bit more operatic than the song called for, but soon the whole camp was at least humming along. 

Drinks were passed silently, and each companion sang a song or told a story in turn. Even Solas sang in Elvhen, and everyone but Evun'ale was surprised to hear that he had a rather beautiful voice, as did Dorian and Cassandra. But everyone was particularly entranced by the Inquisitor. not just because she had a clear, high, voice, simple and sweet, but because she knew a wealth of songs that none of them had ever heard.

Late into the night, she sat cradled in Solas's arms, her voice lulling everyone into a sleepy trance.

"How pleasant thy bank sides and valleys below,  
Where wild in the woodlands, the primroses blow.  
There oft as mild evening sweeps over the lee,  
They sweet-scented birch shades my Mary and me..."

As the song ended, Solas gestured silently to the other side of the camp with a raised eyebrow. Cassandra had fallen asleep on Varric's shoulder and the dwarf rested his head on hers with eyes closed, his arm loose around her back. In the quiet, he peeked an eye open and saw them watching. He put a finger to his lips.

Evun'ale grinned in triumph, and quietly, she and Solas retreated to their own tent. They would return to Skyhold the next day, but for now it seemed, all of them wished to leave the Emerald Graves with a little more love in their hearts.


	32. Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan has a bad day. 
> 
> Seriously, this chapter was supposed to be about a completely different subject but Solas was having too much fun driving Morrigan crazy. So.. I'm sorry.. I think.

When they returned to Skyhold, Evun'ale knew there was once thing she had to do right away, and that was to pronounce her judgement on Thom Rainier. Evun'ale hated this part of being Inquisitor, not just the pressure of pronouncing judgements on real people, but everything that came with it, especially the uncomfortable chair. At least the ancient Avar throne they'd found wasn't as ostentatious as some of the others.

The guards brought the man once known as Blackwall forward, his hands chained in front of him. Evun'ale was saddened by the necessity, and Josephine's obvious upset didn't help matters. The ambassador couldn't even bear to finish reading the charges.

"Why did you bother getting me out? Whatever strings you pulled, I'm not worth it," he said gruffly, his eyes even more hollow and sunken than they usually were.

"I told you in the prison, dying isn't helping anyone. You've saved one of your men, and you're done living the lie, now your life is your own. It's time you made good use of it," Evun'ale said firmly. Some of the people in the main hall gasped in surprise, but Evun'ale was sure in her decision. It didn't hurt to feel Solas's approval like a caress in her mind. He didn't agree with what Blackwall had done, by any means, but recognized shadows of himself in the false Warden. In Thom's redemption, he could find the hope of his own.

"Just like that?" Thom Rainier said incredulously. She nodded. Sometimes it was good to be the Inquisitor. Rainier sighed, surprised but comforted by the continued support of his friends. "If my life is my own, then I can think of no better atonement than to pledge my continued service to the Inquisition."

"Good. Then my judgement is complete." She stood as the guards came to unlock Rainier's manacles. It was no small relief that Thom had elected to stay. Her advisors had not been fond of the idea of letting a wanted criminal go free, no matter how they felt about the man, or how long ago the crime had been. Evun'ale had promised them he would remain at least until Corypheus was defeated. 

"If I'd said anything different, would an arrow from the rookery suddenly found my throat?" he asked, only half-joking.

Evun'ale snorted. "You'd have to ask Leiliana. But I certainly wouldn't have chanced it." The spymaster was not a terribly forgiving woman.

Then it was time to see the War Council and make plans. Leiliana's agents had finally discovered Corypheus's whereabouts in the Arbor Wilds. They made ready to gather their allies for the assault, as it would take a quite while for them all to arrive in the southern jungle. Morrigan barged into the Council chamber as Evun'ale had expected. 

"I know what Corypheus seeks in the Arbor Wilds. He must not be allowed to find it," the witch said imperiously, her body language both bold and weirdly seductive considering the conversation topic.

"Please enlighten us," Solas said in a bored and somewhat frosty tone, though Evun'ale knew he was anticipating this confrontation with extreme amusement. She wasn't the only member of the Inquisition thoroughly tired of the witch and her constant air of superiority, though the others did a better job of hiding it. Morrigan was scowling now, clearly surprised to see the other mage in the Council chamber.

"Inquisitor. I was not aware that your lover was part of the War Council." Her amber eyes were narrowed in suspicion. 

"Do you have a problem with Solas? Or are you simply disappointed that we already have a magical advisor?" Leiliana asked sweetly. The spymaster had already made her feelings regarding her former companion clear.

"No," Morrigan huffed. "I was simply surprised. In any case, twould be best if I showed the Inquisitor the root of my concerns. Tis a difficult thing to explain to those not well-versed in history and magic as I am."

Evun'ale raised her eyebrows as Solas snorted in the background. "Very well. We'll all come see what you have to show us," she said over the sounds of his derision. The other counselors were smiling faintly.

Morrigan frowned but did not comment as all five of them followed her. Of course, she had no way of knowing that Evun'ale and Solas had prepared the others for this moment, and though the witch thought she had the upper hand, she was about to find that the tables had turned.

They walked out into the garden and to a unused chamber on the other side of the courtyard. Inside, a huge mirror was faintly glowing, its surface like oil on water. "So, this is an eluvian," Leiliana said, curiosity and awe in her voice.

"You know of them?" Morrigan asked, obviously surprised, her brow furrowing. Already the conversation had slipped from the script she had planned, but she was a clever woman and recovered easily.

"Yes," Cullen remarked dryly. "Solas has given us a detailed report of their capabilities and locations." The Commander was stilled a bit miffed that he was not allowed to use the eluvians to traipse through Thedas on a whim. With some effort, they had managed to convince him that the network was more useful for clandestine work, and was currently more of a liability than an asset. Making sure it was secure and clear of spies would take more time than they could afford to waste at the moment.

"You have found others?" Morrigan sputtered. She had banked on holding all the cards in this situation, and now it seemed, she had none. It was an unpleasant feeling.

"I have gained control of a part of the network in Orlais, but it will take time to recover the whole," Solas finally remarked, as mildly as he could manage, considering how hard he was trying not to laugh at the other mage's consternation.

However, that seemed to be a step too far beyond what she could believe, and her eyes narrowed. "If you are so knowledgeable about them, perhaps you should open the way."

"No. By all means, be my guest," he replied with an arched eyebrow. "I am interested to see your magic at work."

Morrigan smiled, seeming to feel she had scored a point, and turned to the mirror. She gestured to it... and nothing happened. She frowned and flung more power at it, and this time the mirror flashed a little, not opening, but showing the brief outline of a familiar six-eyed wolf. The witch gasped.

Meanwhile, behind her, Evun'ale slapped Solas hard on the shoulder. "That was a bit much, don't you think?" she muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

"This mirror has been tampered with," Morrigan finally said fiercely, throwing her hands up into the air in frustration. Evun'ale could see the hidden confusion and fear as well. Morrigan knew little of Fen'harel, except for what the tales told, and in that, (and many other things, no doubt) her mother had done her a disservice. Her fear was expected, if regrettable.

"Perhaps I might have a look," Solas suggested as he pushed through to the front. Morrigan stepped aside with a scowl, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at him skeptically.

"I doubt you will have any more luck than I. Tis a powerful ward. I cannot imagine who could, or would have done such a thing."

"Hmmm," was Solas's only reply, and Evun'ale highly suspected that was the only thing he trusted himself to say. Morrigan's hyperbolic self-assessment of her own abilities was somewhat hilarious. He placed his hand on the glass and the familiar sigil of a magical lock appeared. It was more complex than the ones Evun'ale had seen him use before, and this might have been because he thought this eluvian was the most vulnerable. Certainly, Morrigan was watching him with an unpleasantly predatory gaze, which would have worried Evun'ale if she didn't think he was entirely capable of handling himself.

Finally, the lock disappeared and the glass lit up the whole room in a flash of blue light. "It seems to be working now," Solas said with a small smile. "After you, Lady Morrigan."

"I believe I shall let you go first," she said sourly. She likely assumed it was some sort of trap.

Solas arched an eyebrow in reply. "Very well," he said, as Evun'ale slipped her arm through his waiting elbow. "Follow me then, if you will."

*************

They arrived in a thick gray mist, filled with odd cup-like trees and rows of eluvians, most of them dark. "Where are we?" Evun'ale asked Solas as the others began to stumble through. It did not at all look like the other parts of the Crossroads that she and Solas had traveled.

"This part of the Crossroads is fading. Most of the portals are shut and the magic which once maintained it has leached away. It will take some work to restore."

"How could you possibly know all this? It took me years of research to get the eluvian to work. And you speak of this place as if it were your home," Morrigan said, her anger tempered by curiosity.

"This is my home," Solas said simply, walking through the rows of eluvians until he found one that he recognized. "Here we are."

The advisors had followed them in silence and watched as he activated this new eluvian. "So this is how the elves used to travel, back in ancient times?" Leiliana asked quietly, as caught by the almost holy air of silence and magic of the place as everyone else.

"Yes," Solas said with a smile. "This was simply a hub in the network. But the place where I would lead you next is more special."

"I do not understand," Morrigan interjected, dumbfounded that her moment of triumph had been taken away, but too overwhelmed by her desire for knowledge to continue in her anger. "Who are you, exactly? I was told you were a simple apostate. Self-taught, a wanderer."

"That is true. Except the simple part, I suppose," Solas said with a grin. "Pay attention, Lady Morrigan, and you may discover the information you seek."

Leiliana and Josephine shared a long-suffering look behind Solas's back.

"I think you might be enjoying this a bit too much, Solas," Cullen said grumpily. "Where are we going exactly?"

"A quick trip, never fear, Commander," Solas reassured him as the new eluvian finally flared to life. "Follow us. Or you may remain, if you wish, we will return by the same path."

"I don't think I'd enjoy being here alone, thanks," Cullen replied with a sigh. They all went through the mirror and found themselves inside a ruin, fractured islands floating in the iridescent air, bookcases and papers lying abandoned. Oddly, there was no dust, though the place must have been untouched for centuries.

"Vir Dirthara," Solas intoned, sad and reverent. "The greatest library in all Elvhenan, a collection of all knowledge in the empire, gathered here by spirits of learning and connection. This is all that remains."

"Oh. I wish we could have seen it whole," Josephine said with a sigh. "It must have been magnificent."

"Indeed. I thought you might be interested in the knowledge that remains within. Some of it may prove useful."

Both Leiliana and Morrigan looked absolutely ravenous at the thought of a library full of books that no one had read for thousands of years. "Is it safe to come here alone, Solas?" the Spymaster wondered aloud.

"I cannot be sure. Vir Dirthara was somewhat of a hub. I have not had a chance to explore many of the connections. As you have seen, the eluvians are not impossible to move. So I would advise for the time being that you go in company, with the Inquisitor, myself, or Dorian, ideally. And of course, be wary."

Evun'ale had wandered a little ways ahead and they could now hear her laughing at something. Solas frowned and followed the sound of her merriment to find her standing on the front steps of the library, shaking with mirth.

"Are you well, vhenan?" he asked. "I admit I cannot imagine what you find so amusing here."

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "It's only... I just realized. These are the biggest, gaudiest statues of Fen'harel I have ever seen," she said, indicating the giant, golden wolf in the distance. 

Solas frowned, still not understanding what about it was so funny. She shook her head, taking a few more calming breaths. "Fen'harel, the Dread Wolf, the Lord of Tricksters, the Bringer of Nightmares, has his most devoted worshipers at the public library. Doesn't that seem incongruous to you?"

"That is rather odd," Morrigan said thoughtfully. "Perhaps the Dread Wolf is supposed to be guarding the knowledge held within. Though, I do note that this statue does not look particularly menacing. Nor is it facing outward, as it typical."

"I don't know," Evun'ale said playfully. "I prefer to think Fen'harel is really just a giant nerd who spends all his time with his nose in a book, and the librarians put statues here as a gesture of appreciation." Morrigan gave her an odd look.

"In any case," Solas said archly, as if the previous conversation had not happened, "I believe we have remained here long enough. You see how the eluvian network is accessed, and I will grant you all the key."

"Grant? It is my eluvian! I repaired it by hand after years of study and toil. What right do you have to take it from me?" interjected Morrigan, desperately angry.

Solas turned to her, his eyes sharp, his voice hard. "I think you will find, upon examination, that the eluvian belongs to me, as will all of them, in time. I could base my rights upon the might of the Inquisition, on our power and greater need. Or simply by my own right of birth, and superior skill. But the truth of the matter is that I do not trust you with the eluvian. You care for nothing but your own power and survival, and I would not leave the fate of the world balanced upon it. Nor my own life, or any of the lives of the people of the Inquisition, many of whom I care for personally."

"And you all will just stand by and watch, I suppose? Allowing this insufferable man to lay claim to my greatest achievement because he serves your purposes better?" Morrigan said bitterly.

Leiliana laughed musically. "By which you mean that, unlike you, Solas serves a purpose other than his own? I suppose that is true. It makes you much more predictable. Rather tiresome actually."

"You lot can argue later. Let's return to Skyhold before people start to miss us," Cullen remarked, irritated by the bickering and disconcerted by the clearly magical nature of the Crossroads.

"The Commander is right. We should go. Time does not tarry here, and we have more to discuss," Solas agreed, unbothered by Morrigan's indignant spluttering. He and Evun'ale linked hands and a few minutes later, they were back in Skyhold.

Morrigan trailed behind them as they headed back to the War Room, and no one moved to stop her, though no one really acknowledged her presence either. She would have been annoyed, but she was so perplexed and enraged by Solas's theft of the eluvian that she hardly noticed.

"So I take it there is an eluvian in the Arbor Wilds that Corypheus is looking for?" Cullen said once they were all around the table, feeling a bit less grumpy now that they were back in the comforting walls of the keep.

"I believe there is a Temple of Mythal hidden in that jungle, untouched, her last eluvian held within," Morrigan offered with a proud sniff.

"I can see why he would find such a thing useful. Certainly, we should do whatever we can to stop him," Leiliana said thoughtfully.

"It would be unfortunate if Corypheus could access the eluvian network. As Lady Morrigan has no doubt surmised, the Crossroads is much closer to the Fade than our material world. With enough power, he might be able to enter the Black City in truth. However, I do not believe that is his true goal."

"No," Evun'ale said in agreement. "There is a Temple of Mythal in the Arbor Wilds, but the eluvian is an afterthought. Corypheus seeks something else, knowledge. The Well of Sorrows."

"I have never heard of this Well of Sorrows," Morrigan said testily. 

"A great treasure of the Elvhen people, if one is willing to pay the price. It contains all the knowledge of the Keepers and sentinels of Mythal's temple since the founding," Solas said gravely.

"May we ask how you two know about it?" Josephine inquired.

"The full tale is not mine. But suffice it to say that is was not I who healed Evun'ale in the Fade at Adamant, but Mythal. She warned us of what was to come," Solas replied. Evun'ale could feel his tension as they discussed the Well and felt a stab of guilt. If she hadn't been so reckless, there would be no need for him to be in this position. 

"You're saying you met Mythal? A goddess in the flesh?" Morrigan retorted incredulously.

"I met her too," Evun'ale said with a soft smile. "You might even find her somewhat familiar."

Solas turned his laughed into a cough. "The Elvhen gods were not divine beings. They were powerful mages of the People, the Evanuris. Mythal has endured through the ages." He shrugged at all the skeptical looks he was getting. "Your belief is not required. Corypheus is after the knowledge the well contains, I believe the eluvian is a secondary concern. But it hardly matters, we must stop him either way."

"That is true. I will begin contacting our allies at once," Josephine said, making a note on her ever-present scroll.

"Some of our agents are already there, of course, but I will send more. Briala has offered some of her elven spies as well," Leiliana added.

"I will prepare the troops to leave within the week. Do we have anything further to discuss?" Cullen inquired mildly, his humor restored now that the conversation had returned to familiar territory.

"Unless anyone has objections, I will be bringing the bulk of my operations to Skyhold," Solas said, his arm slipping around Evun'ale's waist. "The closer we come to the final confrontation with Corypheus, the more difficult I find communication with my lieutenants. Since we are of one purpose, there is no reason to keep my activities a secret."

"I trust you will introduce them to us when the arrive?" Leiliana asked with a gleam in her eyes.

"Of course," he replied easily. "You may question them all you wish, though I would ask that you be gentle. Some of them have not quite acclimated the world as yet."

The spymaster smiled. "Don't worry, Solas. If you trust them, I doubt they have any reason to fear me."

Morrigan had watched the whole exchange with her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes flicking back and forth, calculating. She didn't like not understanding what was going on, and she felt like clues were being dropped left and right but understanding remained just out of her reach. The Witch of the Wilds had always worked alone, and now she felt out of her element in the heart of a powerful and close-knit organization.

"Let us adjourn this meeting then. We have much to prepare," Cullen said with evident relief.

"All right," Evun'ale said. "Keep me posted about troop movements. We'll probably want to leave soon after the bulk of our forces."

The Commander nodded and everyone turned to leave. "If you would like to be able to explore the eluvians, you may find me in the rotunda," Solas added as they dispersed. Morrigan was thoughtful. She did want to regain access to the Crossroads, but first she needed to figure out who Solas really was. And then there was the Well of Sorrows to research. If there was any way to get ahold of such knowledge, she would find it.

***********

The next day, as Evun'ale made the rounds of her companions, Iron Bull approached her in the tavern, somewhat hesitantly, which was odd. "Hey, Boss. I've got a letter here from my superiors about an opportunity for the Inquisition."

"An opportunity for what?" she asked, suspicious of anything that made Bull look nervous.

"An alliance." he said, almost as if he didn't quite believe it himself. "There's a ship headed to the Storm Coast with a huge cargo of red lyrium. The Qun is sending a dreadnaught to intercept it. But there's a troop of Venatori waiting for them. If we help take down the smugglers, the Qun will offer the Inquisition a full partnership."

"That's a pretty big deal," Evun'ale said, more enthusiastically than she felt. She remembered this, and her decision was already made, but she couldn't tell Bull that.

"They've never allied with anyone before, but the Breach is scaring the shit out of them. The amount of intel we could get... Anyway, it's your choice, but I'm ready to go whenever you are."

Evun'ale went to rotunda to speak with Solas about it, coming up behind his desk and kissing the top of his head. "Vhenan," he said, smiling up at her. "I thought you would be busy conversing with the others all day."

"I would have, but Bull had some surprising news for me," she replied, moving around the chair so that Solas could pull her into his lap. "The Qun wants an alliance with the Inquisition."

He raised his eyebrows in concern. "Please tell me you would not consider aligning yourself with those fanatics. The Qun is slavery but worse, for they would control even the minds of their subjects."

"Atisha, 'ma lath," she said with a chuckle. "I would not. But I will make a pretense of it, for Iron Bull. The Qun will force him to choose, duty or the Chargers. Only then will he be ready to leave it behind."

Solas winced in understanding. "It will be difficult for him to accept. How do you plan to help him along?" She told him the plan.

Of course, Solas did not at all like the notion of separation, but he had to admit it was for the best. He didn't particularly want to interact with the Qunari and the truth was that he needed to remain at Skyhold to receive his people when they arrived. 

So the next day, Evun'ale saddled up with Iron Bull, Dorian, and Sera and bid farewell in the courtyard. Solas stood at Evun'ale's stirrup, not even bothering to hide his anxiety. "You will be careful, my heart? I could find an eluvian to the Storm Coast or..."

Evun'ale leaned down and kissed him. "I'll be fine. I know you're worried, but Dorian's coming. You know he'll keep an eye on me. I am a bit disappointed we won't get to visit our favorite cave again though," she added with a wink.

Solas blushed, but he was smiling. "Perhaps we might visit it in our dreams instead," he replied in a low voice. "I will see you tonight in the Fade, vhenan." Their lips met one last time, communicating their love, worry, and the promise of later. Then the group turned their mounts and cantered over the bridge. Solas sighed and walked back into the rotunda, there to await the arrival of his agents.

Morrigan was waiting for him. "Does she know, the Inquisitor? She is obviously in love with you." The tone of her voice made clear that she believed that he was deceiving Evun'ale. He understood her reservations, and he might have even been touched by her concern, if he did not know that the witch was looking for leverage rather than to protect a friend. As such, her suspicion merely annoyed him.

He raised his eyebrows. "I am not sure what you are referring to. But rest assured that my feelings for the Inquisitor are genuine. I keep no secrets from her. Anyone in the Inquisition could have told you as much," he said, sitting down at his desk and picking up a book.

The dark-haired woman scowled, her eyes narrowed. "You have told her that you are Fen'harel? And she remains with you."

"Indeed. Evun'ale is a woman of surprising strength and compassion. A novel concept to you, I am sure," he added acidly. "But the rest of the Inquisition, at least the Inner Circle, is also aware of my identity. We have only kept it secret to prevent panic."

"How can they trust you? The Dalish call you the Lord of Tricksters, the Bringer of Nightmares, the Devourer of Souls. You destroyed the Elvhen empire, reportedly for nothing more than your own enjoyment," Morrigan said bitterly. 

Solas turned in his chair, his eyes cold, but also somewhat sad. "Have you ever considered, Lady Morrigan, that you may not know all that you think you know? You have studied, you say. But there are no records of Elvhenan written more recently than the time of Andraste, and that was thousands of years after Arlathan fell. All those legends of Fen'harel that the Dalish sing around the campfire were written nearly two thousand years after I entered uthenera. How accurate do you think those could be?"

"Then what explanation would you give, Dread Wolf? You sealed away the Creators, and when Tevinter came calling, they could not help the elves, and Arlathan was swallowed by the earth."

"It did not begin that way. If you study the oldest text, the word harellan did not always mean 'traitor.' It means rebel." His wry smile was tinged with regret. "Solas is my true name. Fen'harel came later. An insult I took as a badge of pride. I led the slaves of Arlathan in rebellion against the false gods. When things went too far, I created the Veil to seal away the Evanuris forever. I could give you many reasons; the Evanuris were cruel to the People, they sacrificed thousands of slaves for power. Their constant desire for more, their ceaseless warring, it would have destroyed the world. I could see no other alternative."

He sighed heavily, his face suddenly lined with sorrow. It was not until that moment that Morrigan truly realized how long he must have lived. Thousands upon thousands of years. "Even I did not realize the full cost. The elves lost everything, their magic, their immortality. By the time Tevinter arrived, the days of the Elvhen were long over."

Morrigan could think of nothing to say. Here was a man who claimed to have created the Veil, a thing that, to her, was an intrinsic part of the world. She could hardly conceive of life without it. And his story was outrageous, but at the same time made so much more sense, linking a thousand different little pieces of lore into a single puzzle all at once. She could almost feel his grief and regret like a physical force, yet he had clearly not given up. She wondered if she would have the same resolve in his situation. 

Solas turned away, his chin resting in his hands. "Think of me what you will, Lady Morrigan. But I stand with the Inquisition without reservation. Corypheus threatens us all." Morrigan thought he would say no more, but he turned back to her suddenly, his voice hard and cold as steel. "The tales of me may be garbled nonsense, but the Dalish had one thing right. I make a bad enemy. Do not think to oppose me, da'len. If you become a danger to me, to my mate, I will not hesitate to end you."

He turned back to his desk without another word, but the threat was so menacing that every other question Morrigan might have asked paled in comparison to her sudden need to flee.


	33. Turning Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demands of the Qun, Solas and Varric talking about wooing ladies. Fen'harel's agents arrive at Skyhold and Solas and Evun'ale go into the Fade to attempt to ally with Abelas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> E, ase mar lath'lan? : Oh she is your lover?  
> Ase ir leal. Ithan ahnsul as'neras: She is so bright. I see why you like her.  
> Vin. Ase Evun'ale, ara falon'esalath.: Yes, she is Evun'ale, my betrothed  
> Tel'ir son dirth elvhen.: She does not speak Elvhen very well.  
> Dirthaan la as eolas.: Speak so she can understand.  
> Tel'emir eluen inor em'an.: We have no secrets between us.  
> Ehn gy? Brithas mar'lin: Who dares? Reveal yourself!  
> Eolas em.: You know me.  
> I ehn ase?: And who is she?

Evun'ale did not like Gatt, she decided rather quickly. It could have because she knew what he would ask of Bull, as well as her feeling that this whole thing was a set up to pull him back to the Qun, but she preferred to believe it was the coldness in his eyes, the hard, unfeeling voice. The blunt refusal to call the Iron Bull anything but Hissrad, which seemed more like an insult than a job title, didn't help matters.

Luckily, they didn't have to spend much time with him. The Chargers, led by Krem, would clear out the Venatori on one hill, while she, Dorian, Sera and Bull would clear out the other. Once both beacons were lit, the Dreadnaught would arrive. Evun'ale did not really want an alliance with the Qun, but she and Solas had discussed things more in depth the night before her departure, as well as in the Fade the following nights. 

She had told him about the Qunari invading the Crossroads in an attempt to take over Southern Thedas. He had been a bit incensed at the idea of the Qun ransacking Vir Dirthara for information. Protecting the eluvians would have to be their first order of business once Corypheus was defeated, but for now, they had both decided that perhaps trying to have their cake and eat it too was not out of the realm of possibility. Even a short term alliance with the Qun might well keep them at bay long enough to secure the Crossroads. It was a worthwhile goal if it could be done without sacrificing their friends. So they had prepared some special surprises for the Venatori.

The first part went off without a hitch. Krem and the Chargers defeated their foes with ease and lit their beacon just as Evun'ale stabbed the last of the of their enemies in the throat. Dorian ignited the signal fire on their side and they waited for the Dreanaught to approach.

"There she is," Iron Bull said finally, as the hulking battleship lumbered into view. "Ain't she a beaut?"

"Certainly the only time in my life that I've been glad to see one of those," Dorian said sardonically. He and Bull glared at each other for a moment before Gatt got their attention.

"More incoming!" the elf shouted, pointing out a huge group of Venatori below.

"They're heading right for the Chargers. They'll be overrun," Bull whispered, almost fearfully. "We need to call the retreat."

"What are you talking about, Hissrad? If your men back down the Dreadnaught will be lost. You know what the Qun demands," Gatt retorted, his voice fierce, but his face satisfied, almost smug.

"Boss, I ..." Iron Bull looked at her, his face pleading. "If the Dreadnaught sinks we'll lose the alliance. But the Chargers... they're my men. I can't make this decision."

Evun'ale looked at him with nothing but sympathy, putting a hand on his meaty shoulder. "I know Bull. The Chargers are more than friends, they're family. We'll call the retreat if things look bad. But I made some preparations beforehand." She looked over at Dorian and he sent up a magical flare.

The valley below exploded, courtesy of the crates of blasting powder they had buried the night before. And then Sera and Krem started throwing jars of wasps. Meanwhile, Dorian, Evun'ale, and Dalish were unleashing magic at the Tevinter mages, who were, for the most part, on fire and completely panicked. Iron Bull was actually laughing as they watched the mayhem, and then the Blades of Hessarion swept down the hill and finished off the last of the opposition.

The Dreadnaught easily outgunned the lyrium smugglers, and then it was over. Evun'ale turned to Gatt, her face shining with triumph. The Qunari liaison was frowning. "You have your alliance, Inquisitor," he said with a sigh. Then he turned to Iron Bull. "As for you, Hissrad, I'll be making a report to your superiors. You'll be off to the re-educators if I have anything to say about it."

"Don't you think you're being a little extreme?" Bull said, his arms crossed over his chest, a cocky smile still fixed on his face.

"You would have abandoned the ship. More than a hundred lives, not to mention the alliance, just to save a few friends of yours? Things may be different in the South, but that goes against everything the Qun stands for," Gatt said, angry. "What about the greater good?"

Iron Bull frowned and looked over at Krem and the others, exchanging high fives, cheering. "You know Gatt, in this case, I don't think there was a greater good. A hundred men versus ten men, yeah, when you look at it like a math problem, it doesn't add up. But the Chargers aren't just my soldiers. We've shed blood together, shared drinks. Heck, we've even shared women. They trust me, and I swore to have their backs." He shrugged. "With the Qun, it's always black and white. Simple. Comforting. But if working with the Boss has taught me one thing, it's that the hardest question don't have easy answers. There's always the gray."

"What are you saying, Hissrad?" Gatt's eyes were dangerously narrow.

Bull raised his eyebrows, as if he had only now realized the implications of his words. Then he grinned. "Report me if you want. But I'm done. I won't be coming home." The giant gray-skinned warrior turned, already waving at the Chargers.

"You'll become Tal-Vashoth? For those idiots?"

"Hey, they're my idiots," he replied with a belly laugh, before jogging over to congratulate Krem and the crew.

Gatt stared after Bull with a look of shocked dismay. "Your ambassador will be hearing from us soon, Inquisitor. I suppose I ought to warn you that they'll likely send assassins after the Tal-Vashoth."

"His name is The Iron Bull," Evun'ale said, finally letting the depth of her annoyance show.

"Yes, I suppose it is," the elf remarked before turning and walking away.

************

The Inquisitor was initially surprised by how well Bull seemed to handling his decision, but by the time the were a day outside of Skyhold, she could tell that it was wearing on him. She found him standing alone at the edge of their camp just before they were about to pack up and start the last leg of the journey home.

"Hey, Boss," he said, not nearly as boisterously as usual. "How's it hanging?"

"I think if I've got bits hanging off me I might need to see the healer," she said with a slight grin. "How are you doing?"

He grunted. "Never thought I'd be here. Tal- fucking- Vashoth. Don't get me wrong, Boss, I'm glad we saved the Chargers. It wouldn't have felt right, leaving them. And that's the point, isn't it?"

"Are you having second thoughts?" she asked. "I don't know about you, but the re-educators sound less than friendly to me."

Bull laughed. "Yeah. They're scary assholes. I guess I don't really want hand myself over. They'd probably kill me just to save themselves the trouble." He sighed. "I dunno. I used to think the Qun was necessary. Helpful. The tamassrin told us that our people were naturally savage monsters, and the Qun was the only way we could be controlled."

"Are you worried they're right? I doubt that savage monsters would have risked so much to help out friends. For all intents and purposes you've been living outside of the Qun since you joined us. I haven't seen any signs of impending insanity."

"Guess that's part of it. But it bothers me just as much worrying that it isn't true. What if Solas was right all along, and the Qun is just another form of slavery? Just a way to keep the priests in power. It's a bitter drink to swallow."

"I can't say I know much about it," Evun'ale admitted. "But even Solas would say that there is usually a kernel of truth to every side of an argument. I feel like reality is probably somewhere in the middle."

"The middle way? You do seem to be fond of it, just like I told Gatt." He chuckled. "Heck, maybe I don't have to throw the Qun entirely out the window. There's some good ideas buried in all the shit."

"That's the spirit. Just... don't go trying to invade Thedas or anything," she agreed with a grin, giving him a slap on the back.

"Nah. I'll let you lead the war party, Boss. Just point me at whatever heads you want bashed in," Iron Bull said, grinning and striding over to the tents to start rolling them up. That wound wouldn't heal overnight, but it was a start.

*******************

Solas could not hide his relief when the Inquisitor's party returned safely to Skyhold, nor did he try. He'd been pacing the battlements all morning, ever since Leiliana had announced that the others would arrive sometime that afternoon.

"You know, Chuckles, if you weren't scowling you'd almost be adorable." Varric was leaning against a parapet with a pipe in one hand and two steaming cups in another. He handed one to Solas, who accepted it with a frown.

"You know I do not drink tea, Varric," he said, his eyes already gazing out over the pass again.

"It's some sort of plant infusion. Supposed to help you relax. If anybody needs it right now, it's you."

Actually, it was delicious, tasting of wildflowers and honey. The warmth seeped into him and he felt the knot of tension in his gut uncoiling. "Thank you, Varric. How goes your efforts to win the heart of our Lady Seeker?"

"As if you had no part of it," Varric replied with a scowl. "There's no way you came to the tavern just to get drunk off your ass."

"Under duress, I assure you," Solas said with a grin. "The Inquisitor is most persuasive. But you did not answer my question."

Varric sighed. "Should have known I couldn't divert you so easily. Cassandra's in denial, and she's avoiding me. But I have a plan. I'm just waiting for the Inquisitor to get back so I can pick her brain. Although...." he looked at Solas appraisingly. "Maybe you can help me."

"I doubt I have any useful advice for courting Cassandra. But I will certainly make the attempt, if only to see how pleased Evun'ale will be if you succeed."

"Just tell me, you two seem to have the romance thing down. How did you... woo... the Inquisitor?"

Solas's ears immediately started to feel warm. "I.... To tell you the truth... I think she did most of the pursuing. When we met.. I comforted her, when she had a nightmare."

"What? Were you lurking around her bedroom? Chuckles, you surprise me," Varric said with a lascivious grin. 

"No, you idiot. It was in the Fade," Solas replied testily. "After closing the rift at the Temple. She had never seen such violence, or demons. Even magic was unfamiliar. It was understandable that she was frightened. And I... I admit I found her fascinating even then."

"Never seen magic? How is that even possible?" Varric said with a frown.

Solas sighed, wondering if he should have revealed that. "Evun'ale is not from this world. It would take too long to explain. But she knew me. Accepted me immediately, without reservation. It put me off balance. She came to my house, before we left for the Hinterlands, to question me about the Fade. About sharing dreams. I offered to teach her Dreamwalking. And then.. she kissed my cheek." 

"So apparently the way to your heart is surprise," Varric said, laughing.

"Evun'ale might agree with you. In any case, I suppose I offered her comfort again in the Hinterlands. You remember how troubled she was after our first battle. And then..." he frowned, not really wanting to share all those private moments.

"Oh come on. Don't hold out on me now, Chuckles. I swear I will not put this in a book. It's for a good cause!"

Solas made a sound of annoyance in his throat. "Her hair was full of mud," he said finally, his eyes going far away at the memory, a gentle smile on his face. "I helped her untangle it, and I braided her hair. It became a sort of tradition."

"Then there was that cave in the Storm Coast," Varric remarked with a knowing chuckle.

"I am definitely not talking about that. With you or anyone else." Solas's voice was firm but his face was very red and Varric grinned. "We did see a dragon fighting a giant, despite your disbelief."

"Damn. I owe Cassandra money now. But never mind that, what happened next? I mean, besides you being a stubborn fool. How did you get back in her good graces?"

"I... gave her some books. A book of poetry. I underlined the passages I thought she would like. I made her a flower," Solas said with a grin. He was still proud of that. It was unfortunate that it was now buried along with the rest of Haven.

"You made her a flower? Out of what? Do you knit?" Varric grinned mischievously. "Oh I know... Papercraft."

Solas shook his head, rolling his eyes. "I made it with magic. Sometimes I think your brain truly is made of stone, Varric. And after all that... I told her the truth. That I suppose, is the most important part. Relationships are built on trust. Cassandra already knows you are clever with words. You must speak to her from the heart."

"Ugh. Somehow I knew you were going to say that, Chuckles. Don't you know I'm allergic to sincerity?"

Solas snorted. "All the more reason to show it to Cassandra. A noble sacrifice in the name of love."

Varric was about to make a sarcastic retort when they both heard trumpets blaring. A party could be seen in the pass below, and Evun'ale's white-blond hair caught the sunlight and reflected it like a star fallen to earth. Varric laughed as Solas attempted to nonchalantly sprint down to the courtyard.

He joined the throngs already gathering to greet the Inquisitor's party, lingering at the edge of the group by habit. It was one thing to show affection to Evun'ale in private, or among their friends, but it felt wrong to come between the Inquisitor and her people. Perhaps wrong wasn't the right word... It felt unsafe to him. Too much exposure. And it seemed selfish. So many longed for her attention, and the fact that she lavished so much of it upon him was unfair. He hardly deserved such preferential treatment. 

Cole glided up next to him. "If they knew, they would fear, hate. Well-deserved. Look at the broken world I have made. I would have done worse," the spirit said, echoing his thoughts. "But it isn't too late to change things. You didn't do it to be right, you did it to save them. Now she will help you fix it."

Solas sighed. He was just trying to help, but how could Cole hope to heal this? "Thank you, Cole. But my shame and isolation is of my own making, not a hurt that can be mended."

"If the people saw the real you, they wouldn't be so frightened. When the truth comes out, they'll remember that you loved. They will see the smile in your eyes and your gentle hands, and they will know that the tales told lies," Cole said, shoving him forward.

"I..." he started protest. But then the approaching riders came clattering into the courtyard, and as the others move back to get out of the way, another well-timed shove from Cole had him at the front. He had to grab the bridle of Evun'ale's hart to keep from being run over by it, and then she practically tackled him before the beast had even come to a full stop. He caught her in his arms with a grunt, but her smile was so infectious that he found himself laughing, and he swung her in a circle before setting her on her feet and kissing her fiercely. "Welcome home, vhenan. I have missed you."

"And I've missed you," she replied, kissing him again before taking his hand so they could walk into the keep while the stablehands took her mount. "What were you up to while I was away?" They walked up the stairs together, smiling and talking, and neither noticed the whispers of the people in the courtyard, or the triumphant smile on Cole's face.

****************

The War Council was readying for the Arbor Wilds. Cullen was planning to leave with the bulk of the troops the very next morning, and it was decided that Evun'ale would leave with her personal war party three days later. "How will you split everyone up?" Cullen asked her. "I don't know what kind of support you will need inside the Temple."

She thought about it for a moment. The main problem would be someone to contain Morrigan in case she thought to try something funny. And they'd need to fight Samson. "All right. I want Cassandra, Varric, Dorian, and Solas. Everyone else can travel with the troops."

"I'd like to go with you as well, if you'll have me," Morrigan said, her voice a bit less confident than it had been the last time they'd spoken.

Evun'ale shrugged. "I figured you'd want to come. I have no problem with that." 

"I will inform the others to be ready to leave tomorrow, if you will notify your chosen companions," Leiliana offered.

That settled, she went to find Solas in the rotunda. Three other unfamiliar elves were gathered around him, all conversing rapidly in Elvhen. One of them made a noise of surprise and Solas turned and smiled. "Finished rallying the troops then, my heart?" he said as she approached the chair.

"Yeah, it's all handled. We're going with Cassandra, Varric, Dorian, and Morrigan. We'll be leaving in four days. Who are your friends?"

"These are my lieutenants. Adhlea, Eolaselan, and Josifen," he said, indicating each elf in turn.

"An'daran atish'an, lethallinen," she said with a smile that was only somewhat hesitant. Evun'ale couldn't help but be a bit worried that some of Solas's agents would not approve of her. Perhaps they were happy with the original plan and would blame her for changing the mind of their leader.

"E, ase mar lath'lan? Ase ir leal. Ithan ahnsul as'neras," said the elder of the two male elves with a chuckle.

"Vin. Ase Evun'ale, ara falon'esalath. Tel'ir son dirth elvhen. Dirthaan la as eolas. Tel'emir eluen inor em'an," Solas said quickly, putting an arm around her that seemed both possessive and protecting. She couldn't help but smile, though she only caught about one word in three.

All three elves reacted with some amount of surprise and assent. The eldest one spoke first. "I am.. glad to meet you. Is that what you say? It has been long since I have spoken this tongue. I am Eolaselan They call you the Inquisitor, do they not?"

"I'm glad to meet you all as well. Inquisitor is one of the less irritating things they call me here, yes," she replied wryly, making all but one of the other elves smile.

"I am surprised they follow an elf so readily, to be truthful. I suppose they call you knife-ear behind your back?" said the female elf. Evun'ale thought Solas had called her Adhlea.

"I was more referring to the whole Herald of Andraste business. I don't get too much in the way of derogatory remarks though. I suppose I'm fairly memorable."

Adhlea snorted. "They probably think you'll disintegrate them or something. Shems."

"Actually, Evun'ale is fairly well loved by her people. I suspect they are more afraid I will disintegrate them," Solas remarked with a chuckle. "However, in the future, I would appreciate it if you do not call the people here 'shems.' The Dalish tend to use it as a derogatory curse word, and I have found that few people here actually deserve such insult."

Adhlea looked surprised, while Josifen, who had not yet spoken, scowled. "Remarkable organization you've built here," Eolaselan said with a smile. "I, for one, am happy to be a part of it."

"Thank you," Evun'ale said, blushing. "Of course, I didn't do all the work."

"Now, vhenan, this is no time for false modesty. We all have our place, but it is your banner the people flock to," he said firmly, making her only blush harder. "In any case, these three will be joining the forces at Skyhold on a fairly permanent basis. Adhlea is my head scout and spymaster, Eolaselan leads the mages and researchers, and Josifen manages the regular troops and supplies. I have already introduced them to their counterparts in the Inquisition." He nodded to them and they seemed to take that as a dismissal, and each wandered away to their own business.

"How many people do you actually have?" Evun'ale asked once they had gone, surprised that he would need so many seconds to help him run what she had always assumed was a small organization.

He smiled. "Not as many as you do, certainly. Probably less than a hundred. But I have too much on my mind to manage their day to day affairs, and originally I planned to recruit many more. However, that will hardly be prudent until Corypheus is defeated."

"I had a thought earlier," she said as they climbed up the stairs to their bedroom. "The sentinels at the Temple of Mythal, is there any way we can warn them? Otherwise, we'll end up having to kill a lot of them in self-defense, which seems rather contrary to our purpose."

Solas gasped. "I did not realize the temple was still occupied. Yes, we should do what we can to prevent conflict. Perhaps convince them to evacuate." He frowned. "However, I am not sure how best to reach them. I do not want to force open the eluvian unless there is no other choice, for I fear they would see it as an attack."

"Could we go to them in dreams?" Evun'ale suggested as they sat together on the bed.

"We could. But it might take a rather long time to locate the right dreamer. I know very little about the Temple as it stands now," he said, stretching out on the bed fully clothed. Evun'ale laid down next to him, wanting very much to slide her hands under his tunic, to feel his bare skin, but knowing that this was actually an important thing to discuss. So she contented herself with laying her head on his chest while he ran his fingers through her hair.

"I know the High Keeper. I mean, from the game, not personally, but his name is Abelas. Does that help?"

Solas raised his eyebrows. "Could you picture Abelas in your mind?"

"I think so," she replied with a frown. 

"Then perhaps we will be able to speak to him."

****************

They stood together in the Fade, hands clasped. "Now, focus your will, as if you were about to cast a spell. But instead of weaving the magic, try to remember all you can of Abelas," Solas said calmly. 

Evun'ale took a deep breath. The head of the sentinels... He had hidden his face in a hood, but she remembered that he had large gold eyes, green vallaslin. As her mind began to warp the Fade with her memories, she heard Solas sigh with relief.

"Very well visualized, vhenan. I do know him. Shathor was his name before the Veil. We shall find him easily, I hope."

She wasn't sure how long it took, but eventually, they found a dream of a soaring library. Evun'ale realized it must be Vir Dirthara, before the Veil made it fall. It was amazing, but they could hardly spend time sightseeing.

"Ehn gy? Brithas mar'lin!" came the voice of Abelas, fierce but not without fear.

"Atisha, falon," Solas said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Eolas em." Abelas approached them cautiously, eyes narrowed.

"Fen'harel?" he said finally, clearly surprised, but apparently not threatened. "I ehn ase?"

"This is Evun'ale," Solas replied. "She is my mate, and she also leads a powerful organization in the outside world. We have come to warn you of an impending conflict."

"Thousands of years you have been silent while we have endured, my friend. Why show yourself now?"

"You have been long isolated, but the quick children have built a new civilization upon our bones. I thought this world I created by raising the Veil was a mistake and I tried to make it right, only to find that I had doomed it to further destruction. Evun'ale is aiding me in correcting my various errors."

"I never thought that He Who Hunts Alone would be tamed. You must be a remarkable woman, and I see you bear his magic," Abelas said in her direction, eyeing her with surprised appraisal.

"He didn't intend for that, I assure you," she remarked with a laugh. "But there is a large force approaching your Temple. Blighted Templars led by an ancient darkspawn. They seek the Well of Sorrows. My troops are coming to stop them, but we do not wish your people to be caught in the crossfire."

"No one has ever breached the Temple before. What makes you think it will happen now?"

"Corypheus is not a mere darkspawn. He has power of his own, granted by the Blight, and he has my foci. He has learned to use the Blight to become effectively immortal," Solas said roughly. "There are so few of us left, that were born before the Veil. We wish to save all that we can. There is a place for you at Terasyl'an Tel'as. If you go through the eluvian to Vir Dirthara, we will meet you there to guide you."

"And what of the Well? I cannot allow the Vir Abelas'an to be despoiled," Abelas said, his brow furrowed.

"I have made a bargain with Mythal. She saved Evun'ale's life, and for this gift, I have agreed to drink from the Vir'Abelas'an," Solas replied grimly.

"Mythal yet lives? And you would bind yourself to her service once more?"

"The Lady has been much changed by the years, but she endures. However, I do not think the Well is powerful enough to bind me. Mythal was content to share in my knowledge should the geas fail." His smile was sharp, almost feral, masking his unease.

Abelas considered for several moments. "I will send most of the people to you. They should not throw their lives away. But I and a few others will remain until this Corypheus is driven off and we see the Well passed on. I will not have my duty forsworn."

"Very well," Solas replied. "We are allied in purpose. We will be at Vir Dirthara to meet your people in two days."

Evun'ale nodded. "The bulk of the Inquisition's forces will be here in three weeks. You'll know them by the banner of the fiery eye. But only my party will need to enter the Temple. There will be six of us, Solas, myself, three humans and a dwarf. Watch the woman with the golden eyes. She may be up to some mischief." 

"And take care with the red lyrium," Solas added. "It is more malevolent than ever."

Abelas nodded. "Thank you, for the warning, and the assistance. It has been long since the outside world has troubled us. I will inform those that guard the borders to let you pass unmolested."

"Dareth shiral, falon. We will meet again soon." Solas and Evun'ale walked back into the Fade, relieved that they had managed to save at least some of the sentinels of Mythal. "I think that went rather well," Solas said as they began walking hand in hand through a memory of the Dales.

"I know. It probably means that something is going to go terribly wrong and blow up right in our face," Evun'ale said with a grimace.

"Indeed."


	34. Path of Sorrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ir abelas, vhenan. Telem shalan ara dirtha'vhen'an: I'm sorry, my heart. I cannot keep my promise.  
> Var lath vir suldein, Evun'ale. Bellanaris: Our love will endure, Evun'ale. Forever.  
> "Haminas. Mythal em'an unvasreir.: Relax. Mythal has released us.  
> Mala sul'anir Fen'harel: Now we serve Fen'harel.  
> Lasas em'an halani. Nuvenir sar eolas.: Give us aid. We need your wisdom.  
> Re son: It is well.  
> Ame vunathe. Ame son.: I am alive. I am well.  
> Emma'sal'shiral: my life's journey

The sentinels of Mythal's temple arrived on schedule, and Solas guided them from the ruined library to Skyhold. It had been decided to let them have their own space, in the large unused room in the basement of the keep, though they were encouraged to wander where they would. 

Along with a few others, Morrigan had to banned from the area where the ancient elves were staying, as her avid curiosity made them uncomfortable. But Eolasan often spent his free time with them, and Evun'ale and Solas visited when they could. Understandably, they had some difficulty adjusting to the changed world.

But just a few days later, it was time for the Inquisitor's party to follow the rest of their forces to the Arbor Wilds. It would be a long journey, mostly because of the difficult terrain. Evun'ale pulled on her stiff new armor. They had plenty of high quality materials now, and they had found some new and interesting schematics, so it was a good excuse to have something made that would fit better. So far no one had said anything, but now she was reminded of her pregnancy every time she put on a pair of pants. 

That morning, she looked down at the swell of stomach stretching the thin fabric of her undershirt, and she laid her hands lightly over it. Solas had told her that if she searched with her magic, she would be able to feel the child growing inside her, but she had been too nervous. Now her curiosity overcame her fear.

She extended her mana carefully in an inquiring tendril until it brushed against something. A spark of life and a fluttering heartbeat. Evun'ale sucked in a shuddering breath.

"Vhenan?" came Solas's concerned voice from the door below. He had likely felt the spike of emotions as he entered the stairwell, and now she heard his quiet footfalls approaching. "Are you all right?"

She looked up at him, joyful tears spilling over her cheeks. "I felt her. Our child, Solas. I don't think I really believed before." 

His answering smile was gentle as he came to stand behind her, placing his hands over hers. "You have brought me such happiness, my heart. Unlooked for, and undeserved. And to see you bearing so many burdens with such grace, it takes my breath away."

"This is not a burden, Solas," she said, leaning back against his chest, feeling his warmth surrounding her. "This is a gift."

"Yes. But it does make you more vulnerable. Every time we prepare for a mission, it is harder for me to let you leave." He squeezed her shoulders, burying his nose in her hair. "I have to suppress my natural impulse to protect you from every danger, since I suspect you would find that irritating, besides the fact that it is unrealistic," he admitted with a chuckle.

"I know. It worries me too. But I don't have much of a choice. With any luck, Corypheus will be defeated in a couple of months, and then we can take a break before the world falls to shit again." Evun'ale shook her head, knowing that it was a futile hope, and still amazed that she had become so central to solving Thedas' myriad problems.

"I hope you are correct, 'ma lath. Now, you should get into your armor before Cassandra comes to break down the door. You know she has a strong aversion to knocking."

In the end, Solas had to help her get ready because she was laughing too hard to do it herself.

**********

The Arbor Wilds was even more fascinating and exotic in person. Garishly colored birds flew from tree to tree, their raucous calls echoing even over the sounds of battle. The forest was damp and green, with the largest trees and mushrooms that Evun'ale had ever seen. She wished they had time to look around, but they arrived in the middle of a war camp.

"Corypheus's forces have nearly reached the Temple," Josephine said as they entered. "You should rest for a bit, but the quicker you can join the battle, the better."

So they all stretched their legs and ate a quick meal, and then Evun'ale gathered them together to brief them on the situation. "The main thing is to get to the temple before the red Templars. We can intervene in the battle as long as we don't get bogged down. Once we're inside the temple, follow my lead. Also, if you see any elves in golden armor, don't attack them. We've already secured an alliance."

The party nodded in agreement, though Morrigan looked somewhat sullen. There was one last check of weapons and armor, and then they were on their way. 

Inquisition forces had done an admirable job of keeping the path clear. They only had to stop to help in a few sorties, though there was more fighting as they moved deeper into the forest. Evun'ale was actually glad to see that none of the elven sentinels appeared to have strayed outside the walls, and the Inquisition was having little trouble handling everything Corypheus threw at them. 

After emerging from the inside of an improbably large hollow log, they came upon the largest part of the battle. Cullen was shouting encouragements to the Inquisition soldiers, a hodgepodge of Orlesians, Fereldens, Templars, mages, and others. A few telltale flashes of golden armor proved that the elves had not been content to leave defense of their temple completely to outsiders.

When their forces saw the Evun'ale had joined the battle, many cheered and all fought with newfound fervor. It didn't seem to matter how many Venatori and red Templars poured into clearing. The few that weren't felled by arrows or magic quickly felt the bite of an Inquisition blade. They easily cleared a path to the Temple.

"Corypheus has already led a group inside," Cullen shouted. "Samson is with them."

Evun'ale nodded. "You heard the Commander. Let's get in there before Corypheus wrecks the place."

It seemed to her that time screeched to a halt as they walked through the long, dim tunnel that served as the entrance to Mythal's Temple. Outside sound was muffled so that all Evun'ale could hear was the breathing of her companions and the beating of her own heart. Solas's hand found hers in the darkness, and they let their fingers entwine for a moment of reassurance. She knew he was worried about the Well and what it might do to him.

They came out once more into bright sunlight and the familiar malevolent sound of Corypheus speaking. "You cling to this remnant of the past, but you will not stop me. The Well of Sorrows will be mine."

He advanced on the lone elf holding the bridge, no doubt Abelas, and, just as Evun'ale remembered, he was gorily reduced to a pile of bloody cinders by a blast of concentrated magical sunlight. It was fairly disgusting. Abelas ran into the temple, and Samson led a group close behind, so Evun'ale and the others jogged down the stairs after them.

"Is that truly the end of Corypheus? It seems far too simple," Morrigan said, grimacing at the grisly remains.

"He's not dead," Evun'ale said with a shudder. "Follow me across the bridge and watch for a moment." They walked to the other side and turned around just as a sickening sound reached their ears, a squelching crunch as the corpse of a Gray Warden shuddered to life. Spindly arms emerged from the bloody ruin, like a gory spider. The whole party was wearing identical expressions of horror.

"So that is how he survived the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes," Solas said quietly.

"Yeah. It's awful. He seems to travel through the Blight. Anyone who is tainted can serve as his host." Evun'ale answered in grim agreement. "Now, let's get inside before he finishes birthing himself or whatever." They all turned and ran as Corypheus's hideous profile became discernible, shoving the double doors shut. There was a flash of light as the entrance magically sealed.

"That will hold for some time," Solas said as he examined the doors with a fierce expression, "but I doubt it will stop Corypheus forever. We should not linger."

They all nodded and walked into the courtyard, which was somewhat overgrown with plants but otherwise intact. The door at the top of the stairs was shut. 'Looks like we'll have to walk the petitioners' path," Evun'ale said as she turned to the others.

"The petitioners' path? What is that?" asked Cassandra with a frown.

"When one wished a boon from Mythal, it was required to prove one's worth," Solas answered. Morrigan seemed a bit annoyed to have someone else being more knowledgeable than her, but she said nothing. 

"How do you prove your worth to an ancient elven goddess?" asked Dorian, peering at the same pillar that Solas and Morrigan were examining.

"This elven writing is the oldest I have ever seen. Tis difficult to translate, and much of it has rubbed off. It says something about duty and the path of sorrows," Morrigan finally said.

"I suspect these safeguards were constructed after I raised the Veil. Something to encourage visitors to the Temple to carefully consider their actions before entering the sanctuary. It is something to do with these tiles around the statues."

Evun'ale nodded. "Watch." She stepped on a tile and it changed from blue to gold. "It's a sort of logic puzzle, but also almost a meditation. You have to turn all the tiles gold, without stopping, backtracking, or crossing your own path."

"Ingenious. And hardly any magic is used, the tiles are mostly mechanical. The enchantment could run on its own for centuries," Dorian remarked with something almost like glee. 

"Indeed. The ancient Elvhen built with the ages in mind. It is probably the only reason that anything survives to this day." Solas sighed heavily, the reminder of what his people had lost weighing on him more heavily than usual.

Evun'ale reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and his eyes softened, the tension fading from the lines of his face. "Do you want to walk the path, or let me?" she asked him softly. She had done it before, of course, in a life that hardly seemed like her own, but it had been difficult. There would probably be several missteps. But she didn't want to burden him further.

"Since it is I who will take the Well, it is only proper for me to walk the path," he said gravely, turning to the raised floor of tiles and looking at it a moment before stepping forward. This first puzzle was a simple one, but Evun'ale still couldn't help but admire the way he walked the correct path unerringly, his stride confident and unhurried and his expression thoughtful.

A chime and a flash of magic from the floor heralded his success. "I believe the door will now be open," he said.

Morrigan turned to Evun'ale with a fierce expression. "You will let Fen'harel take Mythal's treasure? This has already been decided, without even consulting me?"

Solas moved to intervene but Evun'ale held her hand up to stop him. She wasn't afraid of Morrigan and it was important for the witch to remember who held the power here. "Why would your consultation even be required? You have given us no information we did not already possess, and if we had not told you of the Well, you wouldn't have even known about it. You are here as a courtesy, Morrigan. I am the Inquisitor, and I have decided that Solas will drink from the Well. Not just because he has promised Mythal that he will, but because it is his right, and of everyone here, he will make the most use of the knowledge the Well contains. And even if that were not the case, I would still give it to him over you, precisely because he doesn't want the power that it offers, but takes it under duress. While you drool over it like a ravenous beast."

Morrigan scowled, offering no argument. "As you say, Inquisitor," she said coldly, stalking off towards the door.

"Gotta hand it to you, Moonbright. I didn't think you had it in you," Varric said with a chuckle. Cassandra snorted.

"I understand why it was necessary, vhenan, but I still wish you had let me handle it," Solas said quietly. "Morrigan may be exaggerating her abilities, but there is no denying she is a powerful mage. I do not wish to put you in more danger than you already are."

"I know, 'ma lath," she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "But I'm not defenseless, and she needs to know that we are united."

"Come along, you disgusting lovebirds," Dorian called after them in friendly derision. "You can make eyes at each other when we get back to Skyhold."

They followed, both smiling. the teasing breaking the tension, as was no doubt intended. "You're just jealous because you left your lover at home," Evun'ale retorted, earning a scowl from Dorian.

But the door was open, and they passed through just in time to see an explosion cracking open the floor of the next chamber. Samson was there, cheering on his red Templars. He sneered when he saw them enter, and started making a ridiculous speech. There was no time for this. 

Evun'ale charged forward, diving into the pool at Samson's feet. She disappeared. The former templar stared. Then she was behind him, knives in his back. He screamed, whirling. She was gone again, but her companions had recovered from their shock first. Arrows and magic flew through the air, Cassandra lunged into the fray with sword and shield, and Evun'ale was everywhere. She burst out of the water in a spray of mist, stabbing, leaping, dodging a strike, merging with the pool again only to appear a moment later somewhere else.

The battle didn't last that long, and finally, Evun'ale slogged out of the water, dripping and exhausted, but smiling. "That was remarkable," Dorian said. "You melted into the water like it was second nature."

"I've been practicing," she admitted as Solas threw his cloak around her.

"She is absolutely terrifying to swim with now," he admitted with a crooked grin.

"And Samson is defeated," Cassandra said, rolling the man over with her foot. "Still alive. I think that will make Cullen happy, for him to face punishment for his crimes."

"Maybe you and Varric should stay here with him," Evun'ale said thoughtfully. "There shouldn't be any more Templars within. If you carry Samson out to the rest of the troops you might even miss Corypheus."

"There is no need," said a new voice, familiar. It was Abelas. "I will send some of the remaining sentinels to deliver him to your Commander. It is the least I can do. You have proved true to your word, and saved many lives."

"We are glad to help, lethallen," Solas said with a relieved smile. "I especially was glad to do what I can for what remains of the People, since much of the problems of the elvhen are my doing."

Abelas opened his mouth to say something, but a flicker of movement distracted him. A crow flapped madly for the door ahead.

"Morrigan! Shit!" Evun'ale shouted. Solas was already sprinting after her.

"She's going for the Well," he called back to Abelas, who immediately ran after him.

"Well, fuck," Evun'ale said grumpily. "Cassandra and Varric, I guess you're back on Templar duty. Drag him out to Cullen, and then head back to Skyhold. We'll be coming back via eluvian and I don't want you guys running into Corypheus."

"You're sure you will be all right, Evun'ale?" Cassandra asked with a concerned look toward the door. 

"We'll be fine. After all, I'll have Dorian. You two are the ones who have to evade a blighted magister and traipse through a battlefield. So be careful. You aren't allowed to die on me."

Varric chuckled. "I'm sure we'll keep that in mind, Moonbright. See you kids back at Skyhold."

***********

Evun'ale and Dorian jogged through the temple, listening for the sounds of footfalls ahead. She tried to guide herself by instinct and the faint memory of walking through it in the game. Still, they took a few wrong turns before finding the central chamber. The sounds of a struggle could be heard, along with Abelas yelling.

"What have you done?!" he said, angry and sorrowful, a tone he had mastered. It wasn't until Evun'ale had sprinted up the stairs that she saw. Worse than her darkest dreams, a nightmare come true. Solas lay before the Well, a knife protruding from his chest and blood pooling on the stone below.

She fell on her knees at his side and he smiled up at her, pained but gentle. Morrigan and Abelas were still yelling, but their voices faded into the background as all her attention was bent on her lover. "Ir abelas, vhenan. Telem shalan ara dirtha'vhen'an," Solas whispered, a froth of blood bubbling on his lips.

"No, don't give up yet, my love. Please, Dorian is here, he can do something..."

"I can try," Dorian said in a choked voice. "But Morrigan has used blood magic on the blade. There is internal damage." 

Evun'ale could see as well as feel the healing magic in the air, but she knew it was doing very little. Her tears were falling on Solas's face as she held him, and she could hear his breath coming in faint shallow gasps. "Solas, don't leave me. I can't do this alone," she sobbed, feeling her heart breaking.

"Var lath vir suldein, Evun'ale. Bellanaris," he said, his voice barely audible. Then he coughed, blood running out of his mouth, and she could see his eyes grow dim. A wordless howl of anguish rose from her lips as she collapsed against his limp form.

"I hope you're happy, Morrigan," Dorian shouted. "Not only have you just murdered likely the oldest living man in the world, but you've left his unborn child without a father. I hope the Inquisitor kills you. Really, I do. Then maybe I'll raise you from the dead so I can kill you as well."

"Most of the world will thank me," she cried out defensively, though her face seemed stricken by the words. "Only you people seem to suffer under the delusion that the Dread Wolf can be kept like a pet. He has nearly destroyed the world more than once, by his own admission."

Abelas whirled on her angrily, "And what would you know about it, shemlen? Fen'harel has his faults, but he has never stopped fighting for the People. You can never hope to understand what this loss will mean."

"Idiot girl!" a familiar voice suddenly shouted, silencing everyone at once. "Am I forever doomed to be cleaning up your messes? What on earth were you thinking?"

"Mother?!" gasped Morrigan. The wizened but still intimidating woman grinned savagely, sunlight glinting off her horned crown.

"Flemeth?" Evun'ale choked out.

"My Lady Mythal!" Abelas said, falling to his knees in shock and reverence. "So Fen'harel spoke the truth."

"Yes, I have survived. After a fashion," Flemeth said, striding out of the eluvian and wading into the middle of the Well. It glowed bright green as it reacted to her presence. "But now is hardly the time. Bring him here, if you will, Inquisitor."

The expression on Flemeth's face was more kindly than Evun'ale had seen before, and so she gathered her beloved in her arms. She thought he would be heavy, tall and muscled as he was, but when she stood he seemed light as a feather, an empty shell. She waded into the well with his body, feeling the glowing fluid washing over her legs more like mist than water.

Flemeth gazed at Solas sadly as she helped Evun'ale to support his head and shoulders just above the water. "Ah, fen'falon, you have done so much on my behalf with little in return. It was cruel of me to demand, and I would have asked still more. Forgive an old woman. You deserved better than we gave you." She placed her hand on his chest and pulled out the dagger, casting it aside. Blood leaked sluggishly out of the wound, but under Flemeth's hand it closed in a moment.

Then something began to come from Mythal, a writhing black smoke. Evun'ale gasped in recognition. "Won't you die if you give your power to him now?"

"I have Urthemiel to keep me alive for the time being. It was simple enough to coax the soul from Kieran in the Fade. It's probably better that I wait until after your child is born to pass it to you, in any case."

"What did you do to Kieran?" Morrigan shouted suddenly. "How dare you!"

"How dare I? You have some nerve throwing accusations after committing murder in my temple," Flemeth replied, more amused than angry. "The boy is fine. He has no need for Urthemiel's soul, and so I have agreed to give it to the Inquisitor, to aid her quest as well as save her life. Solas was to drink from the Well as part of this bargain, taking the chance that he might find himself bound to my will. But now it seems the terms of the deal must be altered."

"How so?" Evun'ale asked, glancing quickly from Solas to Flemeth, her eyes narrowed.

"Do not fear, Inquisitor. I see now that I cannot allow Fen'harel to be bound to the Well. I still intend to pass Mythal to Morrigan, if she manages to gain some wisdom by the time I am ready to leave the world. However, I cannot trust that she will not manipulate your lover for her own ends. You two must be free if you are to right all the wrongs of the Evanuris. So instead, I will bind the Well to him, to use as he will."

"I.... thank you," Evun'ale said, a bit surprised. Flemeth so rarely helped anyone if it didn't directly benefit her. This was a significant sacrifice.

Flemeth nodded, sighing as the the last of her power flowed into Solas. His back arched as he took a gasping breath, and though his eyes did not open, Evun'ale felt tears of relief begin to course down her cheeks. He was alive, and that was all that mattered. "If anyone deserves gratitude, it is the both of you, working so hard to mend the mistakes of an entire culture," she said kindly, her voice weaker than usual. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to have a word or two with my daughter. You will have a few hours of respite from Corypheus, but once Solas wakes, you should not tarry."

Once again, Evun'ale cradled Solas in her arms, his renewed weight at least partly supported by the 'waters' of the Well. As soon as Flemeth stepped out, the color changed to an iridescent blue. It swirled around them hungrily, and Evun'ale knew what she had to do. They needed this knowledge. 

A sudden inspiration seized her, and with some maneuvering, she sat down, supporting Solas in her lap. With a nervous flutter in her stomach, she sucked some of the electric, ethereal, water into her mouth. Then she pressed her lips to his, letting some of the water pass between them. He swallowed reflexively even as she did, and then her vision went white.

She and Solas stood together in darkness, the air full of whispers and ghostly mist. He sucked in a surprised breath. "Vhenan. Where are we? What has happened?"

Evun'ale suppressed the urge to tackle him with kisses, contenting herself with wrapping an arm around his waist. "We're inside the Well, I guess. Flemeth... or Mythal... or whatever, came and gave you her power to save your life. I think she felt bad that her daughter tried to murder you."

"But, why would you bind yourself as well? I did not want you to to make this sacrifice."

"Haminas. Mythal em'an unvasreir. Mala sul'anir Fen'harel," the voices whispered. 

Solas sighed, part relief and part resignation. "Lasas em'an halani. Nuvenir sar eolas."

"Re son." A cone of energy swirled around them, whirling faster and faster like a cyclone. Then, with a pulse of power, the energy rushed into their bodies and the darkness claimed them.

***************  
"Inquisitor! Solas!" Cassandra's voice echoed in her ears.

"They're all right." That was Dorian. "At least, I think so. I assure you that Solas, at least, looks much better."

Evun'ale blinked in the suddenly too bright light. "Ame vunathe," she murmured. "Ame son."

"What did she say?" Cassandra asked Dorian, while Evun'ale sat up. She immediately bent over Solas and saw, to her relief, that he was breathing steadily. She caressed his face, pressing a kiss to his lips, and his eyes fluttered open.

"Emma'sal'shiral, I though I'd lost you," she said, laughing and crying joyful tears at the same time.

His hands were in her hair, pulling her close while she peppered his face with relieved kisses. "I thought so too. But it seems I am fated to live a bit longer."

"Thank the Maker!" Cassandra said, throwing her arms into the air. "You both scared me half to death. Cullen was waiting for us inside the entrance, but I thought I heard shouting so we ran back, only to find you two lying there covered in blood!"

Evun'ale and Solas picked themselves off the ground, and walked to join the others, though their hands remained tightly clasped. "Glad to see you too," Evun'ale said with a wide grin, giddy with relief. "Did you see Corypheus?"

"No, oddly enough. But that does not mean he isn't here," the Seeker replied. "Where is Morrigan?"

"She and the armored elf went off with Mythal. Somehow, I expect she'll be long gone by the time we get back to Skyhold."

Solas frowned at Dorian's words. "I honestly hope to never see her again. But her son remains at Skyhold and we shall arrive long before she can, traveling through the eluvian. We should take thought to what we will do when she returns."

"But we should leave now. Abelas will be able to come to Skyhold on his own, if that's what he wants. We need to get out of here before Corypheus finds us," Evun'ale said. "We aren't ready to fight him yet.

They all nodded in agreement and walked over to the huge mirror, which lit as soon as Solas placed his hand on the glass. The glyph he used was ridiculously complex, but he managed it quickly. "It is open. Go on, Varric, Cassandra, Dorian. Evun'ale and I must go last."

The others went through the eluvian and as Solas moved to follow, they heard a roar of anger and turned to look. Corypheus was standing at the balcony. "You've arrived too late. The Well is gone," Solas called to him with a slight smile. Then they stepped through the glass and were gone.

The blighted magister soared over the balustrade and down toward the elvuian, only to be surrounded by a pack of huge ethereal wolves.


	35. Of Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor's group returns to Skyhold and Solas and Evun'ale have a talk with Kieran. Solas and Evun'ale spend time together. We've gone like five chapters without smut, so here is some extra leisurely lovemaking. They receive Cole's amulet and go out with him so he can resolve his issues with the templar. Then after Cole accidentally spills the beans about the baby, Varric confronts them with the news back at Skyhold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait, but I'm actually getting paid to write now, and though I'm trying to do both, I got the flu and I only had energy for the one that had a deadline.
> 
> Translations:  
> Tel'amen gonathe or mar on'ala'gealathen.: I am not worth of your wondrous perfection  
> Telahnas, vhenan: Hush, my heart.  
> Ane garahnen unelan my nuvenem: You are everything I could have wished for.  
> Garas, isalan ama na'mis, 'ma sal'shiral: Come, I wish to sheathe your blade, my life's journey  
> Sathan. Isalan dara su tarasyl i'na: Please. I need to go to the sky with you.  
> Felas, arasha. Felas: Slowly, my happiness, slowly.

They arrived in the Crossroads again, in an area that seemed closer to the Fade than most of the other places they had been. It had that strange sort of greenish tint to the sky, and a lot of things were defying gravity. It was a bit ominous for most of them, but luckily they wouldn't have to stay long as they had emerged in a circle of more than a dozen eluvians.

"Mythal's private connecting place," Solas murmured. "A useful find. I feel I ought to leave these eluvians unlocked. Mythal might be somewhat upset if she had to pass through my wards constantly."

"Tempting though, if only to irritate Morrigan," Evun'ale said. 

Dorian chuckled, shaking his head. "I vote against making Mythal angry, personally. However, I am more concerned about getting back to Skyhold. How do you know where any of these will lead?"

"Normally, we would have to go through each one and see," Solas admitted. "But the voices from the Well are quite instructive. This one will take us to Vir Dirthara. That will be the quickest way back to Skyhold."

And so it was that the five of them returned weeks ahead of the army. Josephine was quite surprised to see them, but thrilled to hear that the battle had been won. She was also keen to send Leliana a raven bragging about hearing the news first.

The first order of business, after changing their clothes, was to check on Kieran. He was in the garden, playing with some of the youngest mages. "Hello, Inquisitor" he said, smiling cautiously when he saw them watching.

"Hello, Kieran," she replied gently. "Would you mind coming to speak with us?"

The young boy followed them to the gazebo, obviously nervous, but also curious. "We heard you saw your grandmother recently, in your dreams," Evun'ale continued as Solas kept silent. She knew he assumed that Morrigan had already warned her son to stay away from him, so he probably figured the less talking he did, the better.

"You mean M... Flemeth?" he asked carefully. "How do you know about that?"

"We have just come from Mythal's temple," Solas said gravely. "We spoke to her."

"Oh," Kieran replied, frowning. "Was mother angry? Grandmother said she would be angry."

"Your mother was angry about many things, but not angry with you. Her first thought was whether you were safe," Evun'ale reassured him. 

"Urthemiel went with Grandmother. I am glad not to have the dreams anymore, but I feel lonely without him." Kieran sighed. "Where is Mother? Is she all right?"

"I believe she is well," Solas answered, truthfully as he could. "Last we heard, she was with Mythal. I'm afraid she does not like me very much."

"She said you were the Dread Wolf," Kieran said slyly, either looking to see if Solas would tell the truth, or disbelieving it himself. It was hard to tell.

"I am Fen'harel. Whether I live up to the name given to me is another matter entirely," he replied, smiling. "Although I suspect that you knew more about it than your mother did."

Now the boy grinned, pleased to have his cleverness acknowledged even if he'd been caught in a deceit. "Urthemiel remembered you, from before the song was sundered. He said you were proud but sad, not scary. Mother didn't want to talk about that so much."

"Everyone has their prejudices," Solas remarked with a wry smile. "Tell me something, young man. Is there some place you would like to visit, for a little while?"

"You are sending me away?" Kieran asked, looking both sad and a little frightened.

"You don't have to leave," Evun'ale assured him. "It is only that Morrigan and I have had... a disagreement. We'd like to speak to her, but the only way I can think to force her to talk to us is to keep you hidden until she agrees to meet. I think Solas thought you might enjoy the opportunity to go someplace special, rather than stay in Skyhold."

"You aren't going to hurt Mother?" The dark haired child looked suddenly fierce, and Solas couldn't quite stifle his grin.

"No. Not unless she persists in trying to murder me," he replied. "I neither wish to harm Morrigan, nor you. Especially not you, not only because you are a child, but because your grandmother would be rather upset."

"She is a little scary," Kieran said with an impish grin. "I like it in Skyhold, but..." he paused, head down in embarrassment. "I've never met my father. Mother.. won't even say who it is."

"I know who your father is," Evun'ale admitted. "But the situation is somewhat complicated. I don't want to get your hopes up. I'll write him a letter, that's all I can promise. Is there anywhere you would like to go in the meantime?"

In the end, Kieran decided to remain in Skyhold, but he stayed with Dorian and Cole under heavy wards. The spirit-boy had arrived back home that afternoon, no one knew exactly how, and apparently had been beside himself with grief thinking Solas was dead until they arrived through the eluvian. He'd been happy, if confused, to be proved wrong, and seemed thrilled to spend time with Kieran.

Evun'ale sent a letter requesting a meeting with King Alistair, as she'd promised. Solas was highly amused by her recounting of Kieran's less than romantic conception. 

"I almost feel sorry for the king. I see now why you were so cautious with Kieran. Alistair no doubt has mixed feelings about the whole thing. Though at least his wife will not be angry about his son, since she was the one to convince him of the necessity."

Thinking about it too hard gave Evun'ale the willies. In her mind, the Warden had also been her. Obviously, that wasn't the case here. But this Thedas seemed to be based on the choices she had made. Did that simply mean she had made the correct choices? Or were there hundreds of different Thedases? She tried not consider the thought that the whole thing was an elaborate hallucination. Not even her wildest dreams had been this real.

"Something wrong, vhenan?" Solas asked, his had resting comfortingly between her shoulderblades.

"Mostly just overthinking things," she replied with a sigh. "Let's go upstairs before someone finds something for us to do. I want to crawl into bed with you and stay there for the next week."

"A week?" Solas said with a wicked grin. "Even I do not have that much stamina." Evun'ale laughed and slapped him on the shoulder as they went up the stairs.

***********

Once they were curled in bed with the fire cracking pleasantly in the hearth, Solas turned to her with a serious expression. "Now, will you tell me what is bothering you?"

She chuckled. "So persistent, 'ma lath. I promise you it's not that important. I was just mulling over the relationship between this world and the game that I played. Worrying that there might be a thousand other Thedases where things are going less well. A thousand other Solases who are still alone and suffering."

"If so, I feel sorry for them," he said, pulling her tightly against his body. "But we can only solve the problems of one world. Besides, our bond alone proves that you belong here. If there are other Solases roaming around other Thedases, one might hope they will eventually find their soulmates and be turned to a wiser path."

"That's a good point," she said, turning to face him. Now that they were alone, and things were quiet, the memories from earlier in the day crept back. Solas bleeding out on the ground before the Well, dying in her arms. She shivered, running a finger over the still pink scar just below his sternum. "That was, hands down, the worst moment of my life," she said in a hoarse whisper. "I can't lose you." _Not again_

"I know, my heart. After all, I have thought you were dead more than once, and I did not know how I would be able to continue. I am here with you now." There was no other reassurance to be offered. Even with Mythal's power, he was not invulnerable, and neither was she. They could only take every moment they found, and hope.

She allowed him to envelop her in his embrace, one arm cradling her head and one at the small of her back pulling their bodies flush. Their legs entangled as he pressed his lips to her temple, and she reached up to caress his cheek. She wanted to memorize every line of his face, every freckle, every silver-blue thread in his eyes. 

Solas would not let her linger in fretful gloom however, interrupting her thoughts with a slow kiss, his tongue teasing until her mouth opened to him, and she could taste the lingering hints of sweet wine from dinner. It had been days since he had kissed her like that, what with the traveling and battle, and she felt herself responding quickly to his passion. A tingling warmth trickled from her lower belly as she rolled his lower lip between her teeth and swallowed the moan that escaped him.

His hands had already slid under her nightdress, caressing her with the featherlight touches that he knew would make her shiver and she, in turn, snaked her fingers into his hair, raking her fingers along his scalp and tugging on the dark locks until he growled with desire. He rolled over, pinning her hands over her head and kissing her neck and ear with deliberate lingering gentleness that made her squirm underneath him and whimper with need. When he finally took her earlobe in his mouth, sucking and nipping with equal parts tenderness and ferocity, she gasped. Her body arched into him, brushing against his already hardening member. He chuckled and released her wrists so he could slide her silken nightgown over her head in one long caress. 

"Evun'ale," he said breathlessly upon seeing her body, one side glowing silver with moonlight while the other was bathed in golden light from the fire. "Tel'amen gonathe or mar on'ala'gealathen."

"Telahnas, vhenan. Ane garahnen unelan my nuvenem, 'ma Solas," she said, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Vhenan'ara," he whispered hoarsely, kissing the peak of each breast and then sliding down to press his lips to the soft swell of her belly. A tide of emotions surged through him, love, and fear, and guilt, and joy. Just the knowledge that their child grew inside her made his desire burn hotter and filled him with a deep need to protect her, envelop her, possess her completely. She was already reaching to slide his breeches over his hips.

"Garas, isalan ama na'mis, 'ma sal'shiral" she said. Her voice was husky with need and her eyes shone with love. Welcoming wet heat embraced his cock as he entered her, shuddering. He filled her completely, bending down to kiss her neck, and cup her breast in one long-fingered hand, delighting in the soft skin and new sensation of fullness. Meanwhile, her hands slid around his shoulders, nails scraping over the skin of his back in tingling trails of sensation. His hips ground in a slow circle withdrawing almost completely before easing back in, savoring every inch of her. 

Evun'ale whimpered, arching her back to press herself into him, wanting more, and he chuckled. "Always so impatient, sa'lath." He knew she wanted it wild. She liked their lovemaking to be quick and a bit rough. While enjoyable, Solas had the patience borne of centuries of practice, and he wanted to luxuriate in the joining of their bodies, to drive her almost to the brink and then reel her back again and again until she could think of nothing but him. It was always a contest of wills to see if she could break his control, and he relished the challenge, thrusting into her even more slowly. The next time he pulled back, he cupped the mound of her sex in his palm, pressing the heel of his hand against her in slow circles.

She groaned out his name in a most satisfying way, her cheeks and ears flushing. "Sathan. Isalan dara su tarasyl i'na."

"Felas, arasha, felas," he replied as he rolled her on to her stomach, but the effect was somewhat spoiled when she wiggled her backside at him enticingly, causing his speech to devolve into a low growl. He pulled her hips against him more roughly than he intended, and he gasped as he sank deep into her slick core, feeling almost scalded by her inner heat. She laughed, triumphant, and he growled again.

Now it was she who twisted her hips in an erotic rotation, making his breath catch in his throat. One long arm came around to cradle her head, finger tangling in the silvery mass of her hair, and the other grasped her hip as he rocked into her. A gentle rhythm, but not the achingly slow one of before. They moved together like one being, giving and receiving in equal measure. Solas' hand crept between her legs to slide a finger between her damp folds, caressing the bud of nerves with the gentlest of touches. She gasped at the tongues of molten heat that slithered through her nerves all the way to her toes. A fluttering tension coiled in her belly. With every thrust, she heard the low rumble of a growl in his chest that meant that he was close to the precipice. Suddenly, he was bent over her, his teeth scraping the back of neck as he thrust into her again and again. Her fingers twisted in the sheets, the orgasm unfurling in the center of her being. A bloom of electric ecstasy spiraled through her as Solas' fingers clenched over her hipbones, howling her name. They shuddered together as he spent himself inside her and then they collapsed in a sweaty tangle.

Evun'ale feared she would have nightmares, for even when she was sated and content, the images of Solas' body lying in a pool of blood seemed to be permanently pasted behind her eyelids. But when she finally did fall asleep, she found herself cradled in his arms in a cocoon of blankets. They might have been back in her cabin in Haven, but the bed was more comfortable. There was no sound but the comforting steady thump of her lover's heartbeat, the soft whoosh of his breath, and the gentle patter of rain on the roof.

Eventually, she did try to speak. "Shhh," he said, kissing her hair. "This is a safe place, vhenan. Just rest and be here with me." She rested her head on his chest, and his fingers drew patterns on her bare back as she let herself be soothed by his presence. When she awoke the next morning she realized she had slept the whole night with no other dreams.

************

They were still waiting for the others to return, as well as the rest of the army, but that didn't mean they could rest on their laurels. Two days after they returned from the Arbor Wilds, the amulet for Cole finally arrived from Rivain. 

Solas met Evun'ale and Cole in the rotunda. Cole was already wearing the amulet around his neck and Solas peered at it thoughtfully.

"Will this keep mages from binding me? So I stay safe?" the spirit boy asked in a fretful voice.

"Once I charge it with magic, it should be sufficient. However, Evun'ale has revealed a potential complication, so let us see what happens." Solas held his hand out the amulet and Evun'ale could feel as well as see the mana flowing from him into the pendant. There was a flash of light. Solas prodded the pendant with one long finger. "As you predicted, something is interfering with the function of the enchantment."

"It's not working? Why isn't it working?" Coles asked, frantic.

"What are you two doing to the poor kid?" Varric inquired, leaving his perch by the hearth to glare at them.

"He is not harmed, Master Tethras," Solas said with a roll of his eyes. "The amulet we procured for him is not working properly, that is all." He turned to Cole and put a hand on his shoulder. "Examine the strands of the enchantment where they interact with your being. You will get a sense of where the problem lies."

"Twisting, tearing, turned aside. He killed me. He killed me! Fear, faint, forgotten, lips cracked and belly cramping in the darkness. I hate him!"

"What are you talking about kid? Nobody's killed you, you're right here!" Varric was clearly disturbed by the outburst, gripping Cole's shoulder with white knuckles.

"He is confusing himself with memories of the original Cole, a young mage who was imprisoned in the White Spire. Apparently, the Templars forgot about him and he died of hunger," Solas said in a voice low with grief.

"He was alone and frightened. I couldn't save him, only hold his hand in the end. He said thank you."

"You did what you could, Cole, but now you have a choice to make," Evun'ale said. "The amulet doesn't work because you aren't fully a spirit any longer. You're real, at least a little bit."

"Doesn't that mean he doesn't need the amulet anymore? If he's a person, and not a spirit?" Varric said, aiming a pointed glance in Solas's direction. Their opinions on Cole's 'upbrining' were a bone of contention between them. Evun'ale couldn't help but find it a bit funny..

"Possibly," Solas admitted with a sigh. "But it is dangerous to leave things in such a state of flux. I believe he can lead us the Templar, and then he will make his decision."

They saddled up the horses after informing Josephine that they would probably only be gone a few days. The ambassador waved them off, after reminding them to take a raven with them. After Solas explained to Cole what he needed to look for, he led them forward unerringly, and that evening, they found themselves in a small village at the base of the Frostbacks.

Cole led them to a ruined statue just out of sight of the houses, and there they saw two men making some sort of exchange. "That's him. That's the man that killed me... him."

"He must be smuggling lyrium to feed his addiction, the poor sod," Varric said, quirking an eyebrow at Solas. "Now what?" Both of them had been holding one of Cole's arms, keeping him from charging the man unthinkingly.

"He must choose," Solas said simply, before turning to Cole and meeting his eyes. "Cole, please listen carefully. Your hatred and anger toward that man is what is preventing the amulet from working. If you forgive him in compassion, you will be aligned with your nature. The amulet will protect you from binding, and you will be fully spirit, free to return to the Fade at will."

"That is what you want me to do. Even now, you sometimes miss it, free, flowing and formless in the Fade," Cole said.

"Sometimes. But, this is your choice, not mine, and I have less cause to regret the past than I once did."

"She is here, touch and taste and smell. Together no matter what comes, and soon a little one to teach as well."

"We're getting off the subject," Evun'ale interjected over Cole, but Varric was already grinning, wide-eyed. "Cole, you can become fully human, if you want. You'll stop hearing the thoughts of others eventually, and people won't forget you anymore. You'll need food and rest and everything that we need, but no one will be able to bind you, because you'll be a real, physical person. Varric can help you work through your anger in a different way."

"Real? Like a kiss from the Blue Fairy?" Cole said with a cautious grin at Evun'ale. The others were so used to the odd things he said that they didn't even question it. "I won't hear the hurt anymore. If I want to help, I'll have to do it differently."

"I know it is a difficult decision, but it must be made soon, before our quarry escapes," Solas said, indicating the Templar. He currently sat against the statue injecting himself with lyrium but he wouldn't be there forever.

Cole looked between the three of them for a moment and then he turned to Varric. "You will help me? I think I'd like to be a person."

"Yeah, kid," the dwarf replied. "I know just how to deal with guys like these." He handed Cole his crossbow. "Let's go have a chat with Mister Templar."

"Please tell me that Varric isn't going to make Cole shoot that man," Solas said, though his voice was resigned.

"No," Evun'ale replied with a gentle smile. "It's unloaded." She wrapped an arm around his waist, and he leaned against her, his expression wistful. "Come on. Let's go back to camp. Tonight we get to have a tent to ourselves."

"It is comforting to know that Varric will not be snoring directly in my ear. Perhaps he will even forget to question us about Cole's revealing comment."

***************

As Evun'ale had suspected, there was no way Varric was going to forget something that good. But he also knew how to bide his time. He waited until they were safely back at Skyhold and everyone was relaxing at the table around the hearth. Leiliana, Sera, Blackwall, Vivienne, and the Chargers were not expected back for another week, but Dorian had been glad to see his friends returned. They had found that Fiona was both willing and able to watch over Kieran and they slept under so many wards it was surprising they could breathe. 

So now, Dorian, Cassandra, and Josephine joined the four travelers for dinner and after a bottle of wine had been passed around a few times, Varric sprung his trap upon them.

"So, what's this I hear about there being a little Chuckles on the way, hmm?" he said, being sure he was loud enough for the whole table to hear.

Evun'ale spit out her drink, and Solas put his head in his hands while Dorian raised his arms in celebration. "Hooray! Not my fault this time!"

"What?!" Cassandra shouted, before rounding on Dorian. "It's true and you knew about it? How could you not tell us?"

"It's not exactly my business is it?" he remarked with a raised eyebrow. "I only found out while I was helping Solas patch the Inquisitor up after the 'mace to the skull' incident. I believe they were hoping to keep the news under wraps until we had managed to rid the world of a certain evil darkspawn magister. I happened to agree that it was a wise decision. How'd you find out? Did she vomit on you?" he asked, turning to Varric with a smirk.

"Nah," Varric said with a chuckle. "Cole spilled the beans reading Chuckles' mind, like he does. I'm surprised he didn't blow the secret long ago, actually."

"Solas asked me to be careful. People might threaten to hurt the little one, if they knew she was there. I did try," Cole said apologetically.

"I know, Cole. You kept our secret admirably. If only certain people here could learn such restraint," Solas said with a pointed glare at Varric, who winced.

"Although I am ashamed I did not notice earlier, you were right to be cautious," Josephine said, her quill held thoughtfully to her mouth. "We should all take care that the news travels no further until the Inquisitor wishes it."

"Well, we might as well tell the others. I mean, let's not announce it to the whole world just yet, but Leiliana and Cullen will want to know, and I'd feel badly not telling Blackwall, or Bull. Even Sera and Vivienne, despite our personal differences," Evun'ale said, looking at Solas as he grasped her hand. 

He nodded. "I doubt there is any point in trying to hide it any longer. But I would prefer it if we could manage not to let Corypheus know."

"I can't believe it! Solas, I want to punch you, and hug you at the same time. It's very distressing. When is the baby due? How can you possibly let her go into battle like this?" Cassandra said, banging her glass on the table and then raising it again to drain it dry.

"As I told Dorian, my personal preferences aside, there is no one else who can be the Inquisitor. Only Evun'ale can close the rifts and defeat Corypheus. I can only protect her to the best of my ability. As for the other question, I could not truly say."

Cassandra stewed over that for a moment. "I suppose you are right that Corypheus must take priority, but how can you not know when your own child will be born? Did you not take her to a healer?" she said accusingly.

Evun'ale laughed at Solas' exasperated scowl. "If you must know, the child was conceived in the Fade at Adamant. Elvhen have always had variable periods of gestation, and as I am not a midwife, I can only say that I suspect it will be around a year from now. Perhaps more."

"I have gone to a healer, by the way," Evun'ale assured Cassandra. "But we are trying to be discreet, and I can use my own magic to check on the baby now."

"Do all elven women carry their infants so long?" Josephine wondered aloud. "As far as I know, the city elves seem to have a similar length of pregnancy to human women. Though, I suppose I have not truly paid close attention," she admitted with a rueful grimace.

"Ooo I can answer this one," Dorian interhected, ignoring another glare from Solas. "Solas is still immortal. And Mythal made Evun'ale immortal too so now they can spend eternity filling the world with pretty elven children," he said with a pleased chortle. "Apparently, immortal babies take longer to make."

"That so... romantic," Cassandra sighed, leaning on her elbow with a dreamy expression.

"Bound heart to heart, they will walk side by side through the ages, waking and sleeping. The Dread Wolf hunts alone no more," Cole said, smiling.

Solas' ears turned very pink and Evun'ale kissed him on the cheek as Cassandra and Josephine made cooing noises of envious awe. Varric started writing on a scrap piece of paper while Dorian pretended to vomit into his ale.


	36. A Common Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After some discussion about the future, Solas and Evun'ale travel to Denerim to speak with King Alistair about Kieran. They decide to sneak into the palace as servants in order to keep their meeting as discreet as possible, not wanting to alert Morrigan to their plans. However, they get an unwelcome first-hand taste of the plight of the average elf that throws their secret mission into chaos.
> 
> Warning: Implied Attempted Rape

Three days later, Evun’ale received a return letter from King Alistair, accepting her offer of a meeting the following evening. Only she and Solas would be attending, traveling in disguise, via eluvian. Josephine wasn’t terribly happy about the arrangement, but accepted that this was a personal matter rather than a diplomatic one.

The next day, they both donned the guise of elven servants, to practice. It was probably unnecessary, since they planned to only be in Denerim a few hours, but it ended up being sort of fun. 

Solas, of course, had plenty of experience avoiding notice this way, though he remarked that it had been a bit easier when he was bald. “That’s only because you have such pretty hair, vhenan,” she told him teasingly. “Now no one believes you’re a kitchen boy because you’re far more likely to be the plaything of some courtier.” He scowled at her, but she knew he was just as flattered as he was annoyed.

After donning some of his most ragged traveling clothes and dirtying his hair to dull it, he showed her just how easy it was to pass without notice. She watched him walk through the kitchens, among people who had seen him every day for more than a year, and the only time they paid him any attention was to give him an order or tell him to move out of the way. It was infuriating as much as it was funny.

When he returned to her, he smiled when he saw the look on her face. “It is troubling, is it not, to see how easily one is dismissed for the crime of pointed ears? And the Inquisition is a good place for elves, as far as it goes. In any royal court I would have likely been cuffed about the head for getting in the way of the cook. And in Tevinter, as you well know, the average elf is lucky to be alive. Though perhaps they would not call it luck.” His face was pensive and sad. “It is easy to forget when power and influence shield you from such treatment. And you, of course, have never experienced the full depth of it.”

“We will do something to help the elves, won’t we? After Coryhpehus?” she asked, feeling a strange combination of guilt, sadness, and fury. She should be doing more to help them, these people who both were and were not hers.

“Of course we will, my heart,” Solas said reassuringly, putting his arm around her. “I know it is hard to see, but just having you in such a place of influence has already done much. I did not mean to imply that you aren’t doing enough. You already bear more than your share of responsibilities.” He kissed her forehead. “I only wished to demonstrate how we might conceal ourselves in Denerim, and to prepare you to expect to be treated much differently. Though I know you are aware of the plight of the People, it can be difficult to fully comprehend unless you have experienced it.”

For her disguise, they simply altered some of Solas’s old things. The bad fit and ragged hems actually enhanced the illusion of poverty, and Evun’ale certainly didn’t mind having his familiar herbal scent in her nostrils all day. They would travel to Denerim via eluvian and meet with the King privately. If he would agree to see Kieran, they would come back to fetch the boy, unless Alistair wanted to travel to Skyhold with them.

They met with Solas’s people to finalize the plans for the mission. Adhlea had sent scouts ahead to check on access to the palace. “There are two intact elvuians in Denerim, so far as we can tell. The one in the palace is, of course, inconveniently located inside the lower dungeons, which the humans do not appear to use or even be aware of. Unfortunately, it is also blocked by rubble. Luckily, there is also one in the alienage. One of my spies says he can get you into the palace, but only in the morning. You would possibly have to pose as servants the entire day.”

“Fantastic,” Solas replied dryly. “Not that I haven’t posed as a servant for far longer than a day, but dodging blows and constant insults do become tiresome. If the king does not agree to aid us, I will be somewhat annoyed.”

“Cheer up, ‘ma lath. It might be fun. Just think, tomorrow we can only be blamed for the problems of one castle, rather than an entire continent,” Evun’ale teased. 

Solas snorted. “I suppose you are right, vhenan. It may be a relief to find our issues somewhat less dire in nature. Is there anything else to report?”

“As expected, Corypheus has disappeared again.” Adhlea replied. “Though our spies have not discovered what he intends to do next, they have noted an increasingly desperate tone to the actions of his agents.”

“I suspect there is little left for him to do but confront the Inquisitor openly. We should be prepared for the final assault within the coming weeks,” Solas said, grim and determined. 

“Are you recovered enough for this battle, lethallen?” Eolasan asked gently. Josifen looked aghast that he had dared, but Solas only smiled.

“I suppose rumor has traveled of my misadventure in the Temple. Rest assured that I am perfectly well, thanks in no small part to Mythal’s timely intervention. But of course, the brunt of this battle will be fought by Evun’ale. My task will be to ensure that she, and the rest of us, survive the battle intact. And of course, we must attempt to recover my foci.”

“I do not understand why you are so keen to have the orb back if you aren’t even going to use it,” Josifen grumbled. Every eye in the room turned toward him with varying expressions of surprise and anger. Evun’ale thought he probably hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

“I never said I did not intend to use it, I only said that I did not intend to bring down the Veil as planned,” Solas replied in an acid tone. “For one thing, retrieving my foci is important, simply because it is irresponsible to leave such a powerful object in the hands of a creature like Corypheus. Furthermore, I require the orb so that the Anchor may be safely removed from Evun’ale, as otherwise I would likely be forced to amputate her arm to save her life, which she would no doubt find unpleasant.” His hand found hers and squeezed it. She knew he was remembering what he had seen in her memories. Despite knowing that they were not truly visions of him, Solas still found them troubling. He had not done some of those things, but he could not say for sure that he would not have, if things had been different, and he did not like what that said about him as a person.

“Whatever we do to restore the Elvhen people will likely require a significant amount of magical power,” he continued. “It would be foolish and wasteful not to retrieve this large portion of my own mana.” He stood up from his desk, shutting the book in front of him in a partly unconscious gesture of finality. “Besides, it belongs to me, and I would like to have it back. That should be sufficient reason. If you disagree with my decisions you are welcome to discuss them with me, but if you are going to behave like a petulant child, I cannot imagine I will find your arguments persuasive, Josifen.”

The youngest of the three lieutenants bowed his head in shame but said nothing more, and they adjourned their little meeting soon after. But Josifen’s ill-mannered remark had reminded Evun’ale of something important. As soon as the other three Elvhen had left the room, she turned to Solas, who was staring into space with a pensive frown. She touched his cheek, and he pulled her to his side without a word. “Are you upset about what Josifen said?”

“I am concerned more than I am upset, I suppose, he murmured into her hair. “If those are the things he says aloud, I wonder what he keeps to himself, what he says to the others under his care. He is young, hotheaded, bitter. Having been much the same myself in years past, I know well the kinds of thoughts that can lead to, and the kind of trouble it may cause. There is little to be done about it now, but to keep a closer eye on him.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have good news to deliver. Your conversation reminded me of several somethings regarding the battle with Corypheus that we need to discuss.”

***********************

Once they were back in their bedroom, sitting together in a chair before the hearth, she told him about the destruction of the orb as well as the need to kill Corypheus’s dragon. “When Mythal was going to give me Urthemiel before, I assumed that since I’d be able to put the power of the Anchor back into the foci, you could then use it to seal the Breach without any problems. Now, we’re kind of right back where we started. I know the orb is important to you.”

“If it were destroyed, it would make the task to come much more difficult,” Solas agreed, “but even if it could not be saved, I swear I would not abandon you, my heart.” She sighed into his chest, somewhat grateful that he had given voice to her unspoken fear.

“I’m sorry, ‘ma lath. I know it isn’t fair of me to compare you to the version of you from my world…”

“I can hardly blame you, vhenan” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Considering my past history of fleeing my failures, it is an understandable worry. I cannot change the past, so I must simply work harder to prove my devotion, a task which I find rather enjoyable.” 

Evun’ale laughed. “I’m glad, since I get to reap all the rewards of this particular labor. But do you have any idea what to do about the orb?”

“Several. Unfortunately, research will have to wait until we return from Denerim. But on the subject of proving my devotion, I have some ideas that we might discuss right now,” he said, pressing his lips to her neck just below her ear, a gentle and lingering touch that made Evun’ale’s hair stand on end.

“I am very interested in where this discussion is going,” she replied, turning into his arms with a smile.

***************

“Have I ever said how much I hate getting up early?” she grumbled as they made their way to the eluvian.

“Yes, vhenan, many times,” Solas said with a quiet chuckle as he put his hand to the glass to activate it. It was a good thing no one else was awake since they were already dressed in their elven servant disguises. The biggest challenge had been dealing with their hair. Now Evun’ale understood why Solas had always chosen to go bald. When you’re trying to look half-starved and downtrodden, having a head full of long, healthy hair was difficult to hide. They had rubbed it with dirt, and tied them into simple knots at the base of their necks but in the end, Solas had decided to use magic to make it more dull and ragged. He had also changed Evun’ale’s hair to a mousey brown, as her pale hair was too unusual to pass without remark. As long as they didn’t perform any magic openly, no one was likely to notice the subtle notes of a concealment spell among the servants. 

The eluvian shone with light as it awakened, and, clasping hands, they stepped through. On the other side they found themselves in what appeared to be the basement of a shop, which had been cleaned, possibly, never. The ceiling was so low that Solas had to duck to avoid getting his face stuck in all the cobwebs. “I suppose it could be a helpful addition to our disguises,” he murmured as he tried to flick the sticky webs from his fingers.

They climbed the stairs and found that it was, indeed, a shop, somewhat dingy and vaguely disreputable looking, specializing in magical supplies. “I never understood why the Templars allowed places like this to exist. They might as well wear a name tag saying: ‘Apostate mage here’,” Evun’ale said quietly.

“It is a matter of practicality,” Solas answered, fingering a gaudily decorated wolf skull with raised eyebrows. “The Templars claim to want to stop all apostates, but they do not really mean that. The rich and powerful have always been able to bend the rules. How do you think the ladies at court get rid of unwanted issue from forbidden liaisons? Or cure their children born with unsightly birthmarks? There are always a few mages that survive by catering to the wealthy. A dangerous business, of course. The first time they are unable to save a beloved pet, or a fertility spell doesn’t work, they undoubtedly find themselves under Templar scrutiny. In any case, my point was that the Templars allow a few little places like this to flourish because it is often their friends and family that patronize them. Besides, I am sure it is convenient for them to know exactly where to look first when they have an apostate to catch.”

“As I’m sure you would know,” Evun’ale said with a playful elbow to his ribs. “This looks like the kind of place that you would find fascinating.”

“I would never frequent an establishment that carries so few books,” he retorted, and he might have said more, but Adhlea interrupted them with her arrival from the next room.

“You two might as well be children,” she said, with no real rancor. “If you will cease your flirting, I can introduce you to our contact.”

Their contact proved to be a matronly elven woman with faded vallaslin of Ghila’nain. “My Lady Inquisitor, and Fen’harel, welcome. That is something I certainly never thought I would say.”

“Yes. It is a rather surreal experience for me as well. After all, normally when aware of my identity, people tend to try to chase me away. Or grab me by the ear, if they are feeling traditional,” he remarked wryly. “Please, call me Solas, as that is my name. This is Evun’ale,” he added.

Evun’ale smiled at the woman, who looked a bit stunned. “Neither Solas nor I put much stock in formalities, at least in private. We are still just people, after all.”

“As I said, they are nothing at all like you might imagine,” Adhlea said with grin.

“This whole situation is fairly unbelievable, but here we are. My name is Nehris. Have you considered what you will go by inside the palace? Both of your names are rather unusual, especially for city elves.”

“As it happens, I had considered this. I will be Enasteir and she, Dhaveira. Will that be sufficient?” _Winter’s blessing and Snow-kissed._ Evun’ale smiled, her cheeks turning pink, and Solas squeezed her hand. No one would believe the Dread Wolf was such a romantic.

Nehris nodded. “They are a bit traditional, but will work well enough. If I tell the steward you are siblings, the names will lend credence to that story.”

Adhlea snorted, and Solas glared at her. “I know what you are thinking, lethallan. I assure you that Evun’ale and I are perfectly capable of keeping the nature of our relationship hidden for one day.”

Nehris frowned as Adhlea laughed. “You three had better get going anyway, or you’ll be late.”

“She’s right, of course,” Nehris said. “We should head to the palace immediately.” They bid Adhlea farewell, promising to return to Skyhold by the following morning, and then Nehris led them through the Denerim alienage. It was a depressing place, cramped and dingy. Evun’ale could feel that Solas was angry but unsurprised by the conditions, while she felt like crying.

Nehris saw their expressions, and smiled grimly. “It’s not a pretty picture, is it? Yet it is so much better now, after the Warden broke up the slave ring and King Alistair took the throne. They have done what they can to improve conditions, but it is not the rulers that are the main problem here, but the prejudice of the regular citizens. We can’t change everyone’s minds all at once.”

“That is true,” Solas replied thoughtfully. “It is up to those few of our people in positions of power, like the Inquisitor and I, to give Thedas an example of what the elves could be. And meanwhile, we should focus on the children. When it comes to making grand societal changes, you must plant the seeds young.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Nehris asked. “Adhlea wasn’t very forthcoming. I suppose I shouldn’t expect much in the way of information from a spy of Fen’harel.”

“Adhlea is trained to be cautious, yes. But in this case there is not much to be hidden. We have come to discuss a personal matter with King Alistair. Something the Inquisitor became involved in quite by accident, but which must be handled with discretion, that is all.”

Finally, they reached the gate that separated the alienage from the rest of the city. It was open, as it nearly always was these days, but Nehris’ employer still met her charges there, mostly to prevent them from being harassed. The steward of the Denerim palace was an elderly woman whose stern expression masked a kind personality. 

“Good morning, Nehris. These are the two you were telling me about? Funny, I expected them to be younger.”

“Yes ma’am. Enasteir and Dhaveira are my mother’s cousins. Siblings.”

“Nehris told me you escaped slavery in Tevinter, and you can read and write?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Solas replied. He had adopted a servile posture and an accent that was the perfect mix of Dalish burr and northern aristocratic diction. Evun’ale supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that he was a good actor. Unable to match that, she settled for nodding and looking terrified. 

“You two are both so pretty, I can well imagine what kind of work they had you doing in Tevinter,” she said with sympathy and disgust. “Deplorable. it should be no problem finding you something to do today, and if you prove reliable, I will glad to find you a more permanent position.” Evun’ale was simultaneously amused and horrified. The poor woman though they’d been sex slaves. She was never going to let Solas forget that another woman had called him pretty. Looking at him from the corner of her eyes, she could see that the tips of his ears had gone pink.

“Thank you, ma’am,” they both replied, bobbing their heads, and with that, they were led to the castle to begin their days as servants. 

The first half of the day was uneventful, if tiring. Evun’ale spent most of the time before lunch washing, peeling, and cutting vegetables. She felt a little sorry for Solas, who had been tasked with fetching water and chopping wood. They took their midday meal out in a small courtyard, sitting with their backs against a tree.

“I am much too old for this, vhenan,” Solas complained in a whisper, rubbing his shoulder with a grimace. “When we get home to Skyhold, I think you should give all of the servants a raise, and then I am going to enchant all of the axes to chop firewood by themselves.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that story before, and it ends badly.” she replied with a quiet chuckle. “How about we take a long, hot, bath instead?”

“Are you going to be in the bath?” he said, still more quietly, his eyes glinting wickedly. “Because that will have a large effect on my level of interest.”

Evun’ale never got a chance to answer. “Adhlea was right. You would never fool anyone if they bothered paying attention,” Nehris said, smiling warmly. “It is obvious how you two feel for one another. I would suspect you of lying about your identity if I could see any benefit in claiming to be Fan’harel when you are not.”

“Because I am surely not using the name in order to be frightening?” Solas remarked with raised eyebrows. “You would not be the first to doubt. When it came time to reveal myself to the rest of the Inquisition, I had to transform into a giant six-eyed wolf to get them to take me seriously. And they had the advantage of having seen me perform unusual magic before. I am afraid the reality cannot quite compare to my reputation.” Then he smiled and grasped Evun’ale’s hand for a moment. “It seems even someone as ancient as I am can find love unlooked for, and be changed by it.”

Nehris nodded. “Sometime, I would like to talk with you further about elven history, and your history in particular. Adhlea has told me some of it, but I would like to hear more.”

“Of course. If you are at the shop when we return, I would be happy to speak with you. Otherwise, I am not sure when I will have the opportunity, unless you are to come to Skyhold.”

“I suppose that’s a fair answer.” She turned to walk away, and then turned back. “So is true what Adhlea told me? You two are to be married?” 

Evun’ale giggled as Solas’ ears turned red, which seemed to answer Nehris’ question. 

***************************

They returned to the palace after lunch. Solas was sent to help in the library, copying, which he was only too happy to do. Evun’ale, meanwhile, was sent upstairs to help the chambermaids sweep out the upstairs bedrooms. She sighed as she carried the broom up the steps. Housework had never been her strong suit. She hated it, to tell the truth, she knew that in her bones, although now that she thought about it, she couldn’t even remember why. _I ought to ask Solas. I never did fetch the rest of my memories._

She went in the first bedroom and started sweeping, humming to herself to fill the silence. Eventually she was singing. Music on demand was one of the few things she missed about modern life. Maybe Dagna could invent something? With that in mind, she swept and sang her way around the room, not even noticing when the door opened behind her.

“Pretty voice, for a knife-ear,” said the man, who was dressed like a Ferelden noble. 

Evun’ale ducked her head, not wanting to blow her cover over a petty insult. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you, ser. I’ll be finished sweeping in a moment.”

“Sweeping. A likely story. I know how you lot are. Probably looking for coin to stuff down your bodice,” he growled. “If I were king, I wouldn’t even let your kind into the city. Send you all to live in the woods with your damned deer and bows. Bunch of savages.” He looked her right in the eyes as he said this with a kind of malicious glee.

_He’s goading me. Trying to get me to react. He wants a fight._ Evun’ale very much wanted to give him one. Just imagining the fear in his eyes as the reality sunk in, the knowledge that he had insulted the Inquisitor, made her magic flare in response. But she knew there was no point. It would likely only reinforce this asshole’s belief that all elves were sneaky and savage. Plus, then she’d have to explain what she was doing here, and this secret little mission would turn into a big fuss. She drew herself up, not meeting his eyes, but making clear she wasn’t cowed. 

“Since you find my presence distasteful, I will go,” she said, her tone as frosty as her lover’s magic. She edged past the detestable man, not meeting his eyes, and he didn’t make a move. A quiet sigh of relief escaped her lips. Then a rough hand grabbed her wrist and slammed her against the doorframe.  
He was close, too close, his breath hot and rank against her face. She opened her mouth to scream and his other hand clapped over it hard. “Better not yell, little knife-ear, or it’ll go much worse for you. Don’t pretend like you don’t like it. I know exactly what you little whores like.”

Later, she would ask herself why she didn’t use magic, didn’t bite or kick, or try to fight at all. But in that moment, there was nothing but terror. There was a part of her that had been here before, at the mercy of a man who was angry and cruel, and then she had been a child, truly powerless. The bare fragment of memory was enough to bring her back to that place, and she was small, helpless, and afraid again, unable to fight back. What would be the point? He would only hurt her worse. 

“I knew you’d see it my way,” he growled, his knee pressing into abdomen as he attempted to hold her still while reaching for his belt. She whimpered, her fear spiking. _I can’t let him hurt the baby,_ she thought, and that was just enough to break her panic. Her fists clenched. Screw secrecy.

The man froze. Not just still, but covered in ice. Evun’ale let out an explosive breath. Safe, but not due to her own efforts.

**************

It was almost a relief to be doing something so simple, writing with no thought to what the words would convey, what audience he wrote for, what point he was trying to get across and with what tone. Just copying them as they were written. It was the Chant, perhaps unsurprisingly, though Solas wondered how Thedas could possibly need more copies of the blasted thing. His bitterness over the document had faded as the centuries has passed, and now he could appreciate the artistry. The phrases were beautifully crafted, the language poetic and evocative.

“I never said any such thing,” he muttered to himself. Of course, that was hardly the largest inaccuracy, since he had never claimed to be the maker of anything, except the Veil. He had believed Andraste, trusted her, and she had betrayed him, in more ways than one. Now, he had a second chance, not only to fix the mess he had made with the Veil, but to find his own happiness, something he had given up on long ago.

A sharp pulse of anger from Evun’ale made him sit up straight. It was probably nothing; the palace was full of the sorts of humans who looked down on elves as a matter of course. Her anger was to be expected. But just as he allowed himself to relax, he felt something that concerned him more. Fear. Not the normal anxiety that came from attempting to conceal one’s identity in an unfamiliar place, but a gut-wrenching terror. He had never felt anything like this from Evun’ale before. Before he had made a conscious decision to act, he was running down the hall, ignoring the shouts of protest from those he passed. Probably half of them thought he was stealing something.

He bounded up the stairs and fade-stepped right behind the man who was holding his love by the wrists. Fury took ahold of him, and something else, a well of power he hadn’t yet tapped surged into his being, filling him to overflowing. It felt wonderful, right, almost as if the Veil wasn’t there at all. It comes from Mythal, whispered the voices of the Well. That was enough to stay his hand. He tamped down this newfound power and cast ice on the man instead before speeding to Evun’ale’s side. She fell into his arms, limp.

“Vhenan! Are you injured?” he asked her, tilting her chin so he could look into her eyes. He pupils were wide with fear, but he could feel her already beginning to relax, to steady herself.

“No, I’m fine,” she replied, burying her face in his chest. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she murmured into the rough fabric of his oldest and most ragged shirt. Despite their efforts to make themselves look believably dirty, Solas stilled smelled like himself, elfroot and autumn leaves. It soothed her enough to calm her racing heartbeat, but relief from panic only made her eyes fill with tears. “I should have fought back. It would have been easy. But I couldn’t, I just… froze, shaking, like a child,” she said, choking back a sob.

“You were frightened,” he said softly, stroking her hair. “Even hardened soldiers can lose their nerve in the heat of battle. It is only natural, nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But what if…?” she started to argue, and Solas laid his finger across her lips. 

“Now is not the time for self-recrimination, my heart,” he said, not unkindly. “I will be happy to discuss it with you later, but right now, we should unfreeze this man. As much as he deserves a lingering death from hypothermia, that is not the example we wish to set. If we wish the elves to see true justice on their behalf, we will have to shed our disguises and bring this man before the king.”

Evun’ale nodded shakily. Having something to do gave her the will to push her turbulent emotions to the side, for now, and there was some grim satisfaction in the knowledge that her assailant would be getting his comeuppance. She pulled herself to her feet, standing confidently by Solas’s side as he dismissed the magic. Only he could tell that she gripped his hand much more tightly than usual. 

The ice melted away, leaving the man confused and shivering. “Y-y-you’re an ap-p-p-postate!”

“And you are both foolish and vile,” Solas said coldly. “If we are done stating the obvious, you had best come with us.”

“D-d-on’t come near me! I’ll get the king! I’ll call the Templars!” he said, skittering backwards so fast that he would have fallen if he had not first collided with the wall. 

“Be my guest. I was going to suggest we see King Alistair eight away. I am glad you agree. Good luck finding the Templars.” The man gaped soundlessly, like a fish drowning on the shore. He hadn’t expected a mage, and he certainly hadn’t planned on defiance. In the face of such unpleasant surprises, he wilted like a cut flower. “If you do not wish to be bound and paraded through the halls like a hunting trophy, I suggest you lead the way to the King’s audience chamber as quickly as you can,” Solas added with a raised eyebrow. 

He did so, but as they got closer to the throne room, Evun’ale could hear him muttering darkly about ‘damned robes’ and ‘uppity elves’. Apparently, his courage was already recovering. No matter what happened, Evun’ale could tell this was going to be trouble. Solas squeezed her hand when he felt her anxiety start to grow.

“I need an audience with the King right away!” snapped the increasingly angry man, and to Evun’ale’s surprise, his request was granted rather quickly.

They were ushered into the main throne room, something that seemed to annoy Solas, though it didn’t show on his face. Alistair watched as they approached, and though Evun’ale thought he was trying to look calm and stern, he mostly managed to looked bored. Which he probably was. “So, what was so urgent that I had to stop my very important meeting with the Privy Council?”

“This elf is an apostate! He tried to freeze me to death!” the Ferelden shouted, pointing at Solas, who appeared unconcerned.

“Is this true?” the king asked them, scowling. Evun’ale remembered that Alistair wasn’t fond of magic, but he also seemed a bit skeptical of the man’s claim, which was all to the good.

“Quite true. However, considering I found him assaulting my fiancé, he’s quite lucky he survived the experience,” Solas replied in a mild tone that belied his steely expression.

King Alistair frowned and turned his gaze to the man, who was glaring defiantly. “These elves will say anything to get out of trouble. I caught the girl stealing things from my room! Would you take the word of filthy servants over Bann of Ferelden? My father and brother died at Ostagar.” Evun’ale scowled at the man. She couldn’t believe he had the nerve to accuse her of thievery after everything else, but she also worried that they were at a disadvantage, as far as proving things went. Two elven apostate mages, arguing against a member of the nobility?

If the Bann was hoping to gain support that way, he was mistaken. Alistair narrowed his eyes. “You must be Bann Corbrett. My brother died at Ostagar too, yet somehow I manage to not call there servant names because their ears are a different shape then mine. Do you have any proof to back up your accusation?”

The Bann gaped at the king’s surprising reaction, and Solas took that opportunity to step in. “I believe we could offer some assurances to his majesty about our trustworthiness, if he would not mind meeting with us more privately. I do not wish to make a spectacle.” Evun’ale suddenly felt foolish for worrying. Of course Alistair would believe them, they were two of the most important people in Thedas. There were plenty of people who didn’t have that luck.

“I won’t have those knife-ears sneaking around behind my back. If they have something to say, they can say it right here,” Bann Corbrett protested loudly, and some of the onlookers muttered in agreement.

“You’d better do as the man says,” King Alistair said with a long-suffering sigh. “Lest we have a revolt.”

Solas shrugged. “If that is what he wants,” he said. Evun’ale could see a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, and she reapplied he was relishing the public humiliation this insufferable bigot was about to receive. He nodded to her, and she started unwrapping the bandage covering her left hand.

“I’m sorry our meeting had to happen this way, Your Highness, but we could only sneak into the palace disguised as servants…” Evun’ale trailed off, unsure what else to say. This was supposed to have been a discreet affair, and now it had been ruined by one asshole assuming he would get away with violating her just because she was an elf. She would have been more furious if she wasn’t still feeling shaky with remembered fear. 

“Oh, cheesweasels,” King Alistair said as he realized who exactly had been assaulted by one of his vassals. 

Solas dismissed the illusion on her hair as the last of the bandage fell away, and she held her hand out for all to see. It was almost comical how everyone gasped as the Anchor flared with the brilliant magic of the Fade. Evun’ale could hear them whispering to each other. “The Inquisitor is here. She is an elf. Did you know?” 

“If that is satisfactory, perhaps you would let us change into more appropriate clothing before we proceed further? There is little reason for us to continue pretending, and I think the Inquisitor may need a moment.”

Alistair was looking a bit flustered. “Yeah, me too…” He cleared his throat and assumed a serious expression. “I mean, of course. My seneschal will show you to a guest room and find you clothes.” 

The seneschal proved to be a taciturn but basically kind man with thin hair the color of iron who led them out of the throne room with several apologies and a long-suffering expression. As they left, Alistair turned to the Bann, who was wearing an expression of stunned horror mingled with panic. “Congratulations, Bann Corbrett, not only have you committed a grave personal offense against one of the most powerful women in Thedas, created a major diplomatic incident, and interfered in a covert operation of the Inquisition, but you’ve also ruined my day. Thanks a lot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter that took some turns I didn't initially plan. Anyways, sorry this took so long everyone. Just busy working full-time as a freelance writer now, and having toddlers. All my fics, except the Arlathan one, are still being updated, and I've also picked up two of anachromystic's old works which are too good to let die. I will do things as quickly as I can. Thanks for continuing to read and leaving comments and stuff. It warms my little heart.
> 
> Also, I'll be at DragonCon in September so message me if you'll be there and want to hang out!


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